


Photo Ops

by ChelleyPam



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, no blackout au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-19 08:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4739363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleyPam/pseuds/ChelleyPam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie's agent thinks she needs to be seen on the dating scene to ward off unsavory rumors and questions about why she doesn't make the rounds.  But why did they pick <i>this</i> guy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into No Blackout. Not sure how this is going to play out, but it's an idea that lodged into my brain.
> 
> On another note, a mini-rant: DOES NO ONE REMEBER ENGLISH CLASS?   
> I use the word "encumberment". Concerned that I was spelling it wrong or perhaps had the wrong spelling for the meaning, I looked it up. I clearly remember being taught that when you define a word, you do not use the word to define it. So why is it that every entry I found to 'encumberment' defined it as 'encumbered' or 'encumberance'? 
> 
> WTF?! 
> 
> Wouldn't 'burdened' or 'weighted down', be a better definition? Is this truly the state of current day US education?
> 
> We are doomed. We are, all of us, doomed.

Charlie blinked. She couldn't have heard that correctly. “You want me to...what?”

Ed picked the red onions out of his salad. “You heard me.” He also picked out the mushrooms. What did he have against mushrooms? “It'll be great, Charlie.”

“You want me to go out with some actor I've never even met. What is this for, again?” She watched him squeeze juice from a small plate of lemon wedges onto what was left of his salad. Seriously, why didn't the man just hit a treadmill for twenty or thirty minutes a day so he could have real food? For her part, she sprinkled some fresh Parmesan onto her grilled chicken breast. 

She hated having to come to LA for part of the year. These people did not know how to eat.

“Charlotte, you're twenty-two and the tabloids are starting to point out how you're never seen out and about with anyone. Some of the speculations are potentially damaging.”

She frowned, genuinely confused. “What difference does it make whether I date or not?”

“If you were just some back woods hick, none. But you're in the public eye and image can be everything. Some of what they're saying could ruin not just you but the whole band.”

“What are they saying?”

“The least controversial is that you're a lesbian, which actually wouldn't be a big deal if you dated a girl. The worst is that you don't date because you're sleeping with Miles.”

That made her choked on her iced tea. Honestly, this place not only didn't offer it sweet, they didn't even offer real sugar. “Wh...what? He's my _father_!”

Ed shrugged. “Well, unfortunately, you guys do make your permanent homes in southern Missouri in a rural area that, whether deserved or no, has a reputation of people shacking up with relatives.” He gave her one of those plastic smiles he perfected for schmoozing with industry people. “Look, it's just business. You go out and about with a good looking guy, make sure the paparazzi get plenty of photos of the pair of you together and, in a few months or so, you just go your separate ways.” He shrugged again. “If you want to. Who knows You might actually like each other.”

She sighed. “I told Miles we should have stayed in Nashville, but noooo, he had to try his hand at acting.”

“He's damn good at the acting part and you know it. Which is fortunate, because it makes it all the more believable that you and Neville might meet up.”

“What does he get out of this anyway?”

Ed waggled his hand back and forth. “Titus wants him to clean up his image a bit. He's getting a reputation of being something of man whore. And, in spite of the more recent bullshit and gossip, you're still seen as the fresh faced sweetheart.”

“So, I'm supposed to clean his reputation up and he's supposed to dirty mine? Do you realize how silly this all sounds?”  
“It's nothing that showbiz folks haven't been doing for years. We pair up pretty people for pretty pictures.” He gave her another Hollywood smile. “You'll be fine. And it will do you good to do something besides practice and write. Get out. See the night life. This is LA and Hollywood! Live a little.”

~***~

Charlie's LA house was more like a part of a compound. Miles was very good at acting and as a result he had a sizable piece of property that, instead of having just one huge mansion, had several more reasonable houses so that the whole band was seen too. Her father was a good looking man, and the habits he had developed in the Marines for working out and keeping in shape made sure he could do shirtless without the need of photoshop. He drew the line and full nudity, though it still made her laugh when he and Ed went head to head about it in contracts.

He was currently working as the male lead of a post-apocalyptic science fiction series called Post Shift based off a series of novels in the urban fantasy genre. The books were sometimes heavy on the romance part and there had been some push back from the female fans at first because he wasn't exactly what the literary version of Curran Lennart was supposed to look like. Curran was written as a natural blond and only a little taller than average with a build like a body builder. Miles was quite taller than average, all lean and wiry muscle and dark in coloring. After the first episode where he had a full on fight scene, however, most of the detractors shut the hell up.

It also didn't hurt that he has chemistry with Nora, the female lead, that fell just short of lighting the sets on fire. Now the fans just waited on tenterhooks in hopes that they'd get a sex scene out of them. 

Charlie tried not to think about that part. She'd be going to the kitchen for snacks during any scene that involved Miles in bed with someone.

However, with Miles having a steady acting gig, he had to spend a good portion of the year close to the studio. That meant that the rest of them had to, so they could all work on new songs, practice and be there for recording sessions. They didn't have to spend as much time on the road for long stretches any longer, instead having brief bursts of concert dates set during filming breaks for the show, but Charlie really missed the quieter, more laid back feeling of Tennessee and Missouri. 

She checked her calendar. Three months until she could go back home. Both she and Miles had put their foot down about when they'd be home. From November through Mid-January, the band got to be back on their own stomping grounds. It meant Miles worked himself to near-death to get all his parts in the can, but that was fine. They got the important holidays and they got the good parts of the hunting season. 

Charlie tossed her purse into a chair as she got back home. The light meal of grilled chicken and steamed veggies wasn't going to hold her over and she made a beeline to her kitchen. She should have made Ed come over here for lunch. Then she could have made lunch and had her chicken fried, just as God had intended it to be. She was about to throw together a sandwich with some leftover meatloaf when the house phone rang. Since only people on the property used the land line she punched the speaker. “I want chocolate.” Okay, not your typical way to answer the phone, but she was hungry.

“Then get your ass over here.” Miles. Not surprising. “I've got an idea I want to work on and I'll pay you in ice cream.”  
“What kind of ice cream?”

“Chocolate Therapy. I'll even throw in Oreos.” 

“Deal. Be right over.” She ended the call and did a half-jog along the crushed white rock that made up the driveway/private drive combo that connected the different houses. Miles' place was the largest, having three extra bedrooms and a full recording studio. It was where they did most of their work.

She let herself inside and immediately recognized the rich voice speaking with her father. “Bass?”

A blond head leaned back and around an open doorway separating the main room from the kitchen. Bass Monroe graced her with one of those million watt smiles that made everyone around him want to grin. “Hey there, Beautiful. What's this about you stealing my cookies?”

Charlie ran over and laughed as he swept her up and hugged her with her feet dangling in the air. “You don't need the whole bag. Besides, you're supposed to set a good example for me. Teach me about sharing and all that shit.”

“If you haven't learned it by now, you never will.” He set her back down onto the floor, kissing her hair next to her ear before her. “You're looking good, Charlie.”

“So are you. I didn't know you were coming out.”

“Work visit.” He shrugged. “Some photos of you guys popped up that could only have happened if someone got onto the property. Miles asked me to come out here and go over security. See where the holes are and patch them up.”

She frowned. “What photos?”

Miles waved it off. “Nothing bad of you, but they did get some shots of Jeremy skinny dipping with that model he's been banging.” He slid the bag of cookies over to her and she grabbed five before sliding it to Bass. Double stuffed. Yum. “So what did Ed want? He trying to talk you into giving the acting gig a go again?”

“Nah, he got to talking with some buddy of his and they've cooked up this plan where I play arm candy to some pretty boy so they can say I've got a love life.”

Miles grabbed a couple of beers for him and Bass. Personally, she though beer and Oreos was a disgusting combination, but it was their thing. “Why?”

“Something about stopping people from saying I'm banging my dad.”

A look of utter revulsion crossed Miles' face. “What?!”

Bass shrugged. “Some of the less scrupulous bloggers have been floating that theory. They got a problem with Charlie not dating or not having any known exes.” Miles looked at him and he shrugged. “You pay me and my guys to oversee security. These days that includes online, too.”

“That's just...sick! Why would people even _think_ that?”  
“Because people have dirty minds.” Bass took a swig of his beer. “Look at how they made a fuss over you being her dad in the first place. _That_ almost ruined your career. As I recall, Ed saved you from that, too. Wasn't it his idea that you should bring Charlie into the band and show her off to soften the whole thing about screwing around with your brother's wife? Maybe he's got a point about this. Head if off now before that gets drug back out as further proof that you're a slime bag with no morals.”

Bass wasn't actually calling her father a slime bag, he was just illustrating what other people might say.   
That was his gift; seeing all the angles. Charlie and Miles both wished he was their agent but Bass, though he was fuck all beautiful and could make people trust him, just didn't have the tolerance for bullshit that came with show business. He'd eventually get fed up with the other guy and start delivering skin blistering insults and snark while wrapped up in his genial manner. Miles couldn't do that; he just openly snarked. Together they could demolish a Fortune 500 CEO's self confidence in under sixty seconds. 

It was probably in everyone's best interests that Miles stayed in the show biz part and Bass remained with making sure they all had a safe place to lay their heads down at night and could get from hotel to venue without incident.

“So, Asskicker,” Bass grinned as he snagged some more cookies, “who's your new accessory?”

“That Jason Neville guy? The one that's tearing up the action scene. And I think I'm supposed to be the accessory.”

Miles racked his brain. “Isn't that the kid who always wears his shirts about two sizes too small?”

Bass was frowning now. “Yeah, and he doesn't have the best rep. He's been linked to at least a dozen different girls in the last twelve months. Pretty much a new one every thirty days.”

“Ed says his agent wants him to clean up his image a bit. I guess they're hoping I'm enough girl-next-door to help with that.”

Her father didn't look convinced. “I don't like it. Bass, could you check him out?”

She rolled her eyes. “I can do that much. I do know how to Google. Besides, between the two of you I know about a dozen ways to rip a guy's dick off if he tries to put it anywhere it's not welcomed. You made sure of that.” She devoured another cookie before grabbing the milk from the fridge and drinking from the jug. Neither of the guys said anything. She'd learned that from them, too.

“So, Pops, what are we working on?”

~***~

When she'd been little bitty, she'd taken ballet, Irish step dance and violin. The ballet had been for her mother, the step dance had been for her Grandma Charlotte, and the violin had been because her Uncle Miles was the coolest person on the face of the earth, but her mother wanted her to learn the more structured version of the instrument rather than the earthier, more rustic fiddle style.

Of course, if you're going to let the girl learn to dance to reels and folk music, she's likely to figure out how to play said reels and folk music.  
On a family vacation to the Ozarks to visit her Uncle Miles, he'd taken them to an amusement park. A place called Silver Dollar City where the shtick was that it was set back in the late 1800s and the park employees dressed in old style clothing and had a down home feel to them. It had been during a big music festival and she had seen a girl in a frilly dress who could play fiddle while dancing wildly across the stage. 

It. Was. Awesome!

After that there had been no stopping her. She'd spent hours in the garage between the time when school let out and her parents got home practicing. She taught herself how to cut loose with upbeat reels and jigs while combining her different dance styles into something that would allow her to remain stable enough from the waist up to keep her from losing her place. 

When the ugly truth about the affair between Miles and his brother's wife had come to light, her life had been turned upside down. She'd always known she wasn't the favorite, that was Danny, but it still set her on her ear. The press hadn't helped matters, either. Back then Miles was just the front man of a popular country band. The acting hadn't happened yet, unless you counted music videos. Still, he'd gotten a lot of popularity because of his time in the Marines and having been awarded the Medal of Honor for acts of bravery while serving overseas in a war zone. Screwing around with your brother's wife and getting her pregnant was a vicious contrast to that reputation.

Things had come to a head, spurred on by photographers stalking the family and reporters constantly badgering Rachel and Ben for statements. It was even starting to spill over onto their work, interrupting them during business hours, and Danny had suffered an asthma attack when a particularly insistent jerk had gotten onto the school grounds to corner him and ask him how he felt about his sister also being his cousin.

Miles and Ed had come to the house to talk things over. Rachel had been in a rage, screaming at Miles for ruining their lives. Ben had been doing his best to try and calm her down. Danny had locked himself in his room and refused to talk to anyone. 

Charlie had grabbed her fiddle and her dance shoes and gone into the garage to get away from all of them. She'd blocked them out of her head and started to play, losing herself in the music. She hadn't even noticed when Ed had peeked in, having heard her when he'd taken a break from the screaming match to call the publicist he'd hired to help with damage control. She had been so caught up in her playing and dancing she didn't notice the adults until she finished the piece she'd been practicing.

The most painful part was how quickly Rachel agreed that Charlie should go with Miles. Her reasoning was that if she wasn't there, the press and the furor would leave. Charlie was fairly certain that Ben had only backed her because he truly believed that she'd calm down and they could eventually bring her back home. He might not have been her real father, but he'd still raised her and loved her as though she was his own. 

Ed, on the other hand, pointed out that she had her real father's talent and clearly a few others of her own. They could help smooth over the affair by letting the world see how well father and daughter got along and how much alike they were. She was thirteen, pretty and an apparently endless ball of energy.

Just like that, there was no more school. She had a tutor who came with them onto the road and essentially home schooled her. She had learned most of the band's hit songs on her own, but there were the ones not released as to master. There were new songs Miles and Jeremy came up with that had to be hammered out, polished up and recorded. If she wasn't studying she was practicing. If she wasn't practicing she was performing. For weeks at a time they lived on a tour bus between hotels with every minute of the day planned to the second. If it weren't for Miles, Jeremy and the others, she wasn't sure she would have enjoyed it as much. They became her real family and she was their princess. On the road she was the sweetheart of the stage. When they had time to be at home, she was their rough and tumble tomboy who was always up for blowing the day off on a pond bank fishing or going mudding   
on ATVs. 

Now she was stuck in LA because Ed had talked her father into acting and he'd proven to be a natural. They still worked on their music, it just wasn't their only job, now. Well, it wasn't his only job. As far as she was concerned, there was absolutely no way Ed was going to convince her to do modeling or acting on the side. It just wasn't her thing.

“I'm just not sold on the bridge.”

Miles plunked the melody of her part out on the keyboard a couple of time, considering it. “Yeah, you may have a point. Something a bit more intricate?”

“If we want it to fit. This is suppose to be a love song, not a party song. Something more...delicate.” She considered the main melody and started to pull her bow across the strings, searching out the feel of the song itself. She was getting somewhere, something airy and haunting, when her cell phone rang. Switching her bow to her finger hand, she pulled it out of her pocket and checked the number. 

“Who is it?”

“No idea.” She accepted the call. “This is Charlie.”

_Miss Matheson, this is Sandra. I'm Mr. Neville's personal assistant._

“Oh, right. What's up?”

 _Mr. Neville will be going to_ Crush _tonight. He'll pick you up at nine-thirty. Is that a good time for you?_

Huh? It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Sandra that Mr. Neville could damn well call her himself, but she remembered what Ed and Bass had said about the rumors. “Uhm...sure. Does he know where I live?”

_Yes, Miss. Your agent made sure we had your information._

Good ole Ed. “Okay. That...should be fine, then. I'll...see him tonight.”

 _Thank you, Miss._ The call ended, leaving her to stare at her phone bemusedly.

Miles quirked a brow at her expression. “What was that about?”

“That Neville guy just had his personal assistant call me to set up our date.”

“Seriously? What the hell?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. This was Ed's idea, remember?”

Jeremy made a snorting sound as he plunked a few notes out on his bass. “So where are you going?”

“Some place called 'Crush'. I never heard of it.”

“It's one of the more popular night spots in the city. EDM, mostly.”

Miles cut off a snort, earning him a glare from his daughter. “Sorry, but did he even bother to ask you want you're into? You hate that electronic shit.”

“I haven't even spoken to him yet.” She shrugged and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “No big deal. Ed says we only have to keep it up for a few months or so. We'll probably either stage a break up when we head back home or just let it kind of...fizzle.”

She was back to toying with her ideas when she realized that Miles was watching her with a concerned twist to his features. “What?”

“Why don't you ever date, Charlie? I mean, you never have. You've been with me since you were thirteen and you never bugged me to let you go out with some boy. Not even when you were in your late teens and other girls your age were worrying about what to wear to their prom.”

She blinked at him. “Do you remember my mid to late teens? I got fan letters from _prison_ , Dad. And what about that roadie that got drunk and assaulted me? You broke his jaw, remember?”

“We wouldn't have let anything happen to you. I would have had Bass run a check on them.”

Jeremy snorted. “Yeah, like that wouldn't have scared off anyone. Besides, when would she have had time? It was always either school work, practice, performance or “travel. It's not like she had a conventional childhood, Miles. We drug her everywhere. This is the longest she's stayed in one place in years.”

“Okay, there's that. But, you're twenty-two, Charlie. Your old enough to drink and everything.”

“I've been drinking since I was sixteen, just not where anyone could see me.”

“You know what I mean. Why not go out? Spend time with people your own age, for a change. Maybe listen to Ed about branching out into the model and actress thing.”

“Aaah...no. I refuse to get into a line of work where every little bite of food I take in will be criticized.”

“It's not that bad.”

Jeremy came to her rescue. “It's not that bad for you, Miles. It's way worse for women. Sucre doesn't even let people see her eat in public.”

“You're dating a girl who works under a name that is the French word for 'sugar'.”

“Well, she is sweet.”

Miles rolled his eyes and looked back at his daughter. “I'm just wondering if Ed doesn't have a point. I mean, I don't think I'm going to like this guy since he can't even be bothered to call you directly and _ask_ if you want to go out. Still, there has to be someone out there you'd enjoy spending time with that isn't work related.”

“Maybe there is. And maybe, _maybe_ , Ed's right about getting out and about. Who knows? Maybe I meet someone while I'm smiling for the cameras.” She tapped the staff paper in front of her father with her bow. “But not right now. We're working here.”

~***~

She barely had forty-five minutes between the time they wrapped up with a solid start to what had all the promise of being a hit and when Neville was supposed to be pick her up. She ran back to her house and did a quick dress up. Not hard for her, since her version of dress up was a good pair of jeans, a tank with some glitz to it and as little makeup as she could get away with. She'd been educated thoroughly in how to wear make up without looking like she was wearing a lot of makeup, mainly because cameras could glare off of the skin if you didn't take the proper precautions. 

Seriously. She'd had to sit through five consecutive days of 'makeup education'. 

And no one should be dumb enough to get her started about how much effort went into teaching her how to do her own hair. 

Sometimes being in show business simply wasn't worth the hassle.

She doubted they'd be stopping anywhere to eat, but she didn't have time to fix anything substantial. She had just finished her hair when the house phone rang. “It's me.”

Bass' voice came through with a warm humor in his words. “Well, I'd hope so since your date just came through the gate. Head's up. He looks like a douche.”

“Yeah, I thought that vibe from his last film couldn't possibly be all acting. No biggie. It's all for show, anyway.”

“You remember your emergency code?”

She rolled her eyes and affected a little girl voice. “Yes, 'Bastian. I remember. If anything goes wrong or someone tries to touch me in a bad way, I text you the code and you come get me.”

“Smart ass. Of all the things to get from Miles, it had to be that. Try to have fun, Sweetheart.”

She thought she detected something strained in that last part. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I think I found the problem and I'll get it fixed by tomorrow. That leaves me two weeks of sun, sand and surf. Maybe you'll finally let me teach you how.”  
She smiled. He'd been trying to talk her into learning how to surf for years. “Maybe I will.” The chime to her door sounded. “Gotta go. Don't burn the house down.”

She cut off the call and dug the leather mens wallet from her purse, slipping it into her back pocket and sliding a tube of lip gloss into the front with her phone. She didn't care to try and keep up with a purse all night when all she really needed was her ID, some cash and a credit card, keys and a phone. Growing up on the road had taught her to keep encumberments to a minimum. Purses were for when your Aunt Flow came to visit.

She gave herself one last look in the mirror. “All right, Charlie. Smile for the cameras.”


	2. Chapter 2

Having her feet grabbed and tickled was not her favorite way to wake up.

“GAH!” She tried to yank her feet away but Bass had his arm wrapped around her ankles, pinning them to his side. “Let me go!”

“Up and at em! It's a beautiful day!”

Charlie rolled over onto her stomach, kicking her legs. “Let go!” He finally did.

“Did your father know he was taking a job that required him to pull his ass out of bed at four in the morning before he signed up for it? He hated doing that when we were Marines.”

“Why do you think I live in my own house? I was tired of listening to him bitch about it.” She rubbed at the sleep in her eyes. “What are doing here?”

“I'm going to the beach, and you've been putting off learning to surf since you starting coming out here. No more. I've got two weeks of fun and sand and I'd much rather spend it with you than Jeremy and his tooth pick.”

“Sucre is a nice person. It's the job that requires her to stay so thin. This town is vicious.”

“I'm hoping you still have your appetite. You're not going to sit there and nibble on lettuce and leave me looking like a pig, are you?”

“You try to feed me lettuce and I'll shove it up your ass.”

“That's my girl. Get up. I'll make breakfast while you dress.” He bounced out of her room leaving her to glare at the now empty door. 

“I'm going to kill him.” She wasn't, though. She'd never kill Bass. 

She'd always had something of a crush on her father's best friend, watching him from afar when he met them on the road to personally oversee their security or when they were all back home being themselves. She knew he'd never see her as more than his best friend's little girl and had come to accept that. 

It didn't stop her from fantasizing about that beautiful smile or that fantastic body that was better than most men her own age.

And now he wanted her to hang out at the beach with him. Probably for the better part of the day.   
.  
At least it would be more entertaining than last night's “date”.

She took a quick shower, more to wake herself up than anything else, grabbed a two piece that she had found online that was made to resemble the pin-up styles from the fifties. She liked the styling and the better coverage than most current styles. She could wear this one with a pair of cut offs and a light button-up and was presentable just about anywhere on the boardwalk. By the time she got her hair pulled into a tight braid and made her way to the kitchen, Bass had two nice sized omelets with buttered toast and coffee. 

“You're going to make some lucky guy a fabulous wife one day, Bass.”

“Oh, ha-ha. You think you're cute, don't you.”

“I'm adorable. Ask anyone.” She grinned at him and claimed a plate. They made quick work of their breakfast and cleaned up before he snagged stole her keys from the glass dish on the sofa table. He dangled them above her head, knowing she couldn't reach them, then dashed out the door to steal the spot behind the wheel.

The beach always had people. Especially on a Saturday. However, Bass had made it a priority over the past four years to find which beaches were less likely to draw a crowd or were better suited to surfers. They stopped at a shop he used when visiting and he bought her a wet suit and rented a board. He had his own that he kept at Miles' place.

“When you get the hang of this, you're gonna love it so much you'll get your own board, then I'll keep them at your place.” 

“You seem sure of that.”

Bass grinned. “You love to keep moving. You forget. I've known you most of your life. You'll love it.” 

He walked with her to the beach and had her lay down on the board while it was on the sand, walking her though the steps to pop up once she caught a wave.

“Just like that? Seems a little tricky in the water.”

“You'll fall off for at least the first hour or so, but you'll get it. Trust me.”

He was right. For the first hour and a half, she experienced various methods of falling off the board into the water. Her nose and throat burned from sea water, but she still laughed. When she finally managed to get up onto the board, she got so excited that she stood up too straight to yelp and fell off again. 

She lacked Bass' skill and grace, but once she was able to get up, he got his own board into the water and they took turns grabbing waves for another couple of hours. In the end she was pleasantly tired and pruned. Her hair and skin smelled like the ocean and sunshine. Sand and grit irritated her skin. She loved it.

They returned the rented board and stripped out of their suits. She pulled the shorts back over her bikini bottoms and shrugged on the oversize shirt.

“Well?”

She looked over at Bass, her lips twitching a bit. “Okay. I loved it. Not sure if I'd want to do it alone, though. Who would I talk smack with?”

“Ah, a lady surfer alone won't lack for company. You'd make friends in a hurry.” He ran a towel over his messy curls. “Ready for lunch?”

“Starving. I didn't expect to work up such an appetite.” She rolled her shoulders. “Or wear myself out so much. My arms feel like overcooked spaghetti.”

Bass laughed and yanked her braid. “Let's go.”

He took her to some beach front place that had open windows facing the waves. It served several things that were uniquely California and juicy, bad-for-you burgers. She ordered one that came with Colby, pepper jack and swiz cheese and seasoned fries. They got a pitcher of beer to share and dug in.

“So, how did your big date go last night? I noticed you were back home a little past midnight.”

She snorted around a mouthful of burger. “I know I don't have anything to really compare it to, but I don't think that was a date.”

“Oh?” Bass stole one of her fries. “Did he really have his PA call you to set it up?”

“Yep.” She stole one of his chips. “Then, after we got into his car when he picked me up, he was on the phone the entire drive to the club. He's one of those guys who wears an earpiece for his phone all the time.”

“Seriously? Who was he talking to?”

“His three buddies who met us at the club.”

“Who were they?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. He didn't bother to introduce us. He didn't really bother to talk to me at all. When we got there we paused for some photos before going inside.”

Bass gaped at her. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“No. I'm being dead serious. Although, if that's how he treats all of his dates, it's no wonder he can't keep a girl for more than a month. He didn't even ask me what I wanted to drink. I had to catch the waitress and change the cosmo he ordered for me to a coke.”

“I thought you like cosmos.”

“They're fine, but I wasn't going to drink in the company of four men I didn't know. I'm pretty sure two of them were indulging in some recreational pharmaceuticals, too. At any rate, they drank more than I was comfortable with in the hour or so we were there, and decided to go over to one of the other guy's houses. I wasn't about to do that.”

He grinned. “That's my girl. How did you get home?”

“They called Home James.” He frowned, confused. “It's a transport service. They have drivers in nice suits who all go by 'James'. You call them to come get you and they drive out on these little scooters that fold up to fit into your trunk. They drive you home in your own car, pull out the scooter and go back to wherever they come from. I convinced Jason to replace me with one of the guys in his car so they could continue their talk and I had the driver bring me home instead. I doubt Neville even noticed I was gone.”

“I was right. He's a douche.” Bass shook his head. “You don't need to put up with that.”

“It's only for a little while. It's not like either of us is actually interested in the other.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe I'm his beard.” Bass choked on a mouthful of beer. “I mean, he was more interested in his guy friends than me. Maybe I have the wrong equipment to catch his eye, but being the big action star it would hurt his rep if he came out.”

Now Bass was laughing, slapping the table with one hand. “God, wouldn't that be great.” He wiped tears from his eyes. He stole more of her fries.

“Stop that! If you wanted fries, you should have ordered some damn fries!” She stole another chip in retaliation.

~***~

Sunday rolled around and she spent most of it in the studio with Miles, Jeremy and Jim. Jim was something of a rarity in country music; a black man. There weren't many in their genre, but as he and Jeremy were both ex-Marines from the same unit, it seemed almost natural for him to be there with them.

Bass could sing, too, and he had some solid grasp on the guitar, but he didn't have the patience for doing it as a career. He had declined teaming up with his old battle buddies. 

They were going over the various songs they'd come up with over the past eight months, practicing, tweaking and polishing. Though Miles' home studio was good, they would go into an actual professional studio to record the new album in a couple of weeks. 

She could hardly wait. 

Jim was frowning her way. She looked back and shrugged. “What?”

He didn't answer her, instead turning to her father. “Miles, maybe we should give the fans a treat this time.”

“Like what?”

He waved a hand in her direction. “Add a track with her doing the lead. One of those pretty ballads we cooked up that aren't right for a male singer. They'll love it.”

“I'm just the fiddle player.”

Miles studied her. “He's got a point, though. We have three songs that would be a hit, but really aren't meant for an old fart like me. They just don't sound right coming from a guy, but they'd be spot on for you.”

Jeremy chimed in. “I like it, but it should be something special. Oh! You know they're always making those 'deluxe' versions on iTunes. Uncensored and with extra tracks. We can put it there. A special bonus for the extra money.”

All three of her band mates threw into the idea, ignoring her protest that she was 'just the fiddle player' and reviewing the three songs in question. They were lovely. Slow with a lot of acoustic guitar and piano. And they did sound strange in Miles' deep, smoky voice. 

She was glaring at her father when Ed came into the room. “Miles, have you heard of locks?”

“Why bother? You have a key. You get the studio?”

“We're set.” He turned and frowned at Charlie. She blinked.

“What?”

“Did you even fucking _try_?”

She blinked again. “Try what?”

Ed sighed and commandeered the studio computer. He typed on the keys for a bit, then turned the monitor around to face the band. He'd gotten onto the web site for Fashion TV and pulled up the latest episode of the Weekend Rap. The two regular costars, a retired fashion model named Heather and a relatively well known designer named Michael were joined by Vivianna, one of the current A listers in the Hip Hop genre. 

Heather, looking perfectly coiffed and made up as usual, was looking into the camera. “Probably the most surprising site this Friday night was heart throb Jason Neville showing up with the new flavor of the month.” 

The screen behind her came to life with an image of Jason and Charlie outside of Crush. It was right after they arrived and were moving with the measured slowness used to allow people to get a good look, pausing here and there to pose for pictures. 

“For those not into the Country scene, that's Charlotte Matheson of the Matheson Militia, known as CharlieBird by most fans. Definitely not his usual kind of girl.”

Michael waved a hand to the screen. “Not dressed like that, surely.” He looked to the camera. “Sweetie, you started coming out to LA four years ago. Get a stylist, _please _. You look like you're planning to spend the night cow tipping, not going to one of the city's hottest clubs.”__

__Heather agreed, apparently. “Exactly. I mean, not that she's not beautiful, but she hadn't been with Neville I doubt the doorman would have even let her in.” The screen replayed a part of the video with her and Jason paused for pictures. “A lot of natural beauty there. Great hair. Great face. In unbelievable shape, anyone who has seen a Double M show or has seen clips of her online knows she's in shape. But she shows up in a pair of ordinary jeans and a tank. She looks like she got them off the rack in a Wal-Mart.”_ _

__Vivianna gave a brief laugh. “She does, doesn't she? And even at that, she was probably hotter than half the girls in that place. Someone needs to take her in hand. I mean, ain't her father working with Nora Clayton? That woman knows style. He should hand her over to Nora and let the woman work her magic. I mean, look at her! Hey, fast forward to when she turns around. Right there. Stop right there. Look at her.” The rapper waved at a view of Charlie from the back. “For a skinny white girl, she has got a nice butt. The girl has got a lot to work with, and she's wasting it.”_ _

__Charlie sighed. “Is that was has your panties in a twist?”_ _

__Ed stopped the video and looked at her in disbelief. When it failed to cow her, he turned to Miles. “Do something with her. They have a point. Sick Nora on her. Hell, give her to Sucre. What's the point in one of you dating a super model if you're going to let her continue to dress like a backwoods bumpkin?”_ _

__Miles shrugged. “I don't see what the big deal is.”_ _

__Ed ran his hands through his hair. “You see, this is exactly why I said you needed to hire a _woman_ as her tutor when she was growing up. You brought her up with a bunch of ex-military guys and now she doesn't know how to act like a girl.”_ _

__“Hey!” She took offense at that. She really did. “I do just fine in the girl department!”_ _

__“Then why did you show up at a night club like Crush in old jeans and a tank top?”_ _

__She shrugged. “They were new jeans and it was my fanciest tank. And I wore make up.”_ _

__Ed sighed, shaking his head. “You are going to be the death of me, Charlie.” He glared at Miles. “Do something with her. Don't make me hire some overzealous fashionista too come in here. I don't want to risk the lawsuit when Charlie gets pissed off and hits her.”_ _

__“All right. All right. I'll...ask Nora.”_ _

__Charlie rolled her eyes. “Is that all? You just wanted to come in here and bitch at me about my lack of skanky clothes and stilettos?”_ _

__Their agent sighed again. “And I got a call about the Grammys in February.”_ _

__Miles' brow went up. “They want us to perform at the Grammys?”_ _

__“No, not the band.” Ed waved a hand in Charlie's direction. “They tapped the people who put together Celtic Woman. Their people called me about teaming up with Charlie.”_ _

__Charlie's back went straight, her eyes going wide. “Is it...?”_ _

__He grimaced. “Mairead Nesbitt. They want to talk about you two doing a duet together.”_ _

__“AAAAHHH!” Charlie screamed and started jumping up and down like a bunny on crack. “YES! YES! YES!”_ _

__The guys watched her with varying shades of amusement. After a bit she started dancing around in a little circle while crowing in a sing-song voice. “I get to dance with Mairead! Gonna dance with Mairead!”_ _

__Miles quirked a lop sided smirk at her. “Fan girl, much?”_ _

__Charlie stopped and shoved her father out of his chair._ _

____

~***~

Charlie sat on her bed, one leg folded up under the other and hugging a pillow to her chest as she watched the beautiful Latina currently rummaging through her closet. 

“You like your jeans, don't you.”

“They're comfy and all purpose.”

“White Stag? Never heard of them.”

Charlie shrugged. “It's a Wal-Mart brand.” Okay, so she had gotten her clothes at Wal-Mart. So what?

Nora made a humming sound in her throat, then pushed her jeans and shirts aside to look at the other portion of her wardrobe that didn't get a lot of show in LA. “This is different.” She pulled out a dress with a decidedly fifties feel. “Looks vintage.”

“Just in style. The guy who does are wardrobe on the road taught me how to sew. I like to play with vintage patters. Vogue and Butterick reprint stuff from previous decades and I play around with fabrics.”

The actress looked over at her, surprise on her features. “You made this?”

“Yeah. Now that I have a bunch of free time on my hands, I make a lot of stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like the buttons. Some out of polymer clay. Some out of resin. That one I was experimenting with torch glass. I turned one of the extra bedrooms into a craft space.”

“Huh.” Nora thumbed through a few more of her creations. “We can work with this. We still nee to buy you a lot of new things, but we can also use this to create your own style.”

Charlie grimaced. “You're not going to make me dress up in that club wear stuff, are you? I think I've seen hookers who wear more fabric.”

“Nah. We can do hot and edgy without doing slut. Besides, I don't think you could safely pull off some of those looks. They aren't really meant for girls with good hips. You'd be bordering on indecent.”

Her cell phone rang. Charlie threw herself back onto the bed and grabbed it from the night table. She looked at the number and sighed, accepting the call.

“This is Charlie.”

_Miss Matheson, this is Sandra._

“Hey, Sandy, what's up?”

The woman on the other end of the call hesitated a bit. Probably didn't expect such a friendly reception.

_Mr. Neville is attending the premier of his latest movie this coming Friday. He will pick you up at six o'clock._

“Okay. Sounds doable. Anything else?”

_Mr. Neville asks that I advise you that it is a somewhat...dressy affair._

She fought a grin. “So, avoid the jeans and tank top this time. Got it.” She ended the call and looked to Nora. “Movie premiere with the male lead in three days.”

“Hmm.” Nora looked back through the closet. “How fast are you at sewing?”

~***~

Technically there is no real dress code for a Hollywood premiere. Looks ranged from dressy to casual, usually based on who you were.

Since Jason was the male lead in the picture, he wore an Armani suit that was tailored to his well defined form. He looked like he had just walked off the cover of a magazine and the crowd, both fans and media, went wild.

Charlie stepped out of the car just as Nora had taught her, setting both feet onto the ground together and standing up instead of her usual one leg at a time.

She had a sizable collection of patterns, just waiting until she found the right fabric or notion to make it click. For this she and Nora had settled on a reprint of a design originally drawn up in 1946. Cap sleeves on a gathered yoke set atop a torso that came just under her breasts. It made her top half look as generous as her bottom half thanks to the empire-like styling. The skirt hit just above her knees. She had omitted the fabric belt included with the pattern for one of metal links and turquoise she'd picked up at a garage sale a few years back. Instead of the linen fabric usually recommended for the pattern, she'd found a fashion silk of an ombre blue with hand painted flowers along the bottom. She'd whipped up a simple beaded necklace and bracelets to finish the look.

The result was simple, summery and uniquely her. 

Judging from the furor and all the calls for her attention, she'd done well.

Maybe too well, she discovered, as the infamous Michael and Heather caught up with her.

Michael was openly obvious in his perusal of her new look. “This is divine, Charlie. Quite a different look from what you usually give us. Tell me, who are you wearing?”

Oh, right. They asked stupid questions like that. “It's a combination of my choice in fabrics and a reprint of a patter from the forties.”

That took the designer by surprise. “You made this?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I wanted something that was me.”

He seemed impressed. “Well, I can honestly say I've never gotten that answer on the red carpet. It is definitely something else. Very classy and really makes the most of your looks. A plus.”

Heather grinned at her. “So, Charlie, you're here with one of Hollywood's top male actors and your father is making waves every week on Post Shift. Are there any plans for you to join them on the silver screen?”

“No, definitely not. I've seen what my father has to go through. I can honestly say I do not have the temperament for it. I avoid having to get up before seven in the morning if I can.”

“So smart. I wish I had been smart enough to put that rule down. I'm sure they're holding up things until you two get inside so I'll let you go. Looking forward to seeing more of you.”

Charlie and Jason bade them good bye and made their way inside the theater. 

That Sunday's episode of Weekend Rap had far friendlier things to say about CharlieBird.


	3. Chapter 3

Bass was sitting on the overstuffed leather sofa in Miles' living room watching E and scowling. 

Miles leaned up against the wall, drank from his beer and watched his best friend.

The bubbly girl commenting on the red carpet arrivals to the premiere was chatting to Jason Neville. Charlie stood next to him, her eyes glancing over people off camera while the man next to her kept a hand on the small of her back.

Bass scowled more.

Miles smirked. “You are so cute. You know that, right?”

Bass looked back, surprised to see Miles standing there. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Wanted a beer first.” He walked over and sat down next to the man who was his brother in all but blood. “So...you gonna ever get the balls to do something or do I have to worry about that idiot ending up my son-in-law?”

Bass blinked at him. “What?”

“I'm not blind, Bass. And I'm not stupid. I've seen how you look at my girl when she can't see you.”

His friend's face paled. “Miles...I wouldn't...I've never....”

He cracked up. “I know, Bass! You've never touched her. You've never made a move. You've just watched her and pined over her like a love sick school boy.” He grinned as Bass' face turned red. “As I recall, started sometime while she was seventeen. Five years is a long time to yearn over a girl without making a move.”

That earned him a glare. “She's your...she's _yours_.” 

“My daughter, not my girlfriend.”

“You're not freaked out about it?”

He pondered that for a moment, then shrugged. “I was at first, but I trusted you. Now...I just want the two favorite people in my life to be happy. If you make each other happy, all the better.” He finished his beer. “I just won't dwell on how you make her happy.” He considered some more. “And if you do make a move, I'd prefer it if you kept things at her place so I don't have to walk in on it or hear it.”

Bass gaped at him. Clearly he had stumped his best friend.

“Don't end up wondering what would have happened if you'd spoken up. She looks at you when your head is turned, too. I suspect that you're the reason she never really bothered with the whole dating scene on her own, anyway. I wouldn't wait too long if I were you.”

Bass shook his head and glared at the television again. “Yeah, well, she's busy at the moment.”

That made Miles snort. “With a guy who has his personal assistant call and set up their dates? I don't care what Ed thought would happen, that guy isn't gonna be around long. Charlie won't put up with it. She'll be all for cutting him loose as soon as it's feasible.” 

He got up, leaving his bottle on the coffee table. As he walked around the couch to head off to bed, he put a hand on Bass' shoulder. 

“Don't leave it too long, Bass. She's not gonna wait around forever.”

~***~

The 'New CharlieBird' was quite the hit. What she wore, whether it was something designer label that Nora or Sucre helped her to find or one of her own creations, she was finding herself on the style page with more and more frequency. 

Still, as Nora promised, there was a lot of shopping to do. And not even the kind Charlie enjoyed. 

“What's wrong with the jeans I have?”

Nora arched a brow at her. “Do I really need to answer that question? Try them on.” She pushed the faded denim in her hands into the younger woman's arms, turned her around and pushed her towards the dressing rooms.

She did as she was told, still mouthing. “Two hundred and fifty dollars for a pair of jeans? How could they possibly be worth that much?”

“Are you going to bitch the entire time? And it's not like you can't afford them.” Nora exchanged a slightly embarrassed smile with the sales girl next to her.

“It's the principal of the thing. I paid less for that crepe de chine I picked up yesterday. Now you want me to pay more for a few yards of denim than I did for high quality silk?”

“Your agent is right. You need more women in your life. Try on the damn jeans, Charlie.”

“I'm trying on the damn jeans.” She came out a couple of minutes later, legs encased in overpriced denim and looking good. 

Nora gave a sharp nod. “Much better. Now try on the other pair.”

Eight trendy stores and a few thousand dollars later, Charlie and Nora stopped for an early dinner. It was a cute little bistro that was currently popular with the famous and well off. Charlie grimaced as they pulled up to the valet station.

“What?”

“I failed to realize that hanging out with the uber famous would end up with so many pictures. I had nightmares about those jackals after it all blew up when I was a kid.”

“You weren't exactly unknown before this.” Nora handed the car off and came around to walk with her towards the bistro. “You've had more than your fair share of face time.”

“Yeah, but not here. Country doesn't really register very loudly in this town. We're more of a Midwest and Southern thing. Other than Miles, no one really paid much attention to the rest of us. I was just another random girl. Now...” she waved her hand towards the line of photographers, “there's all of that.”

Nora laughed and threaded an arm through hers. “Welcome to Hollywood, Charlie.”

They got a table on the patio near the glass. Both of them placed orders and got their iced tea. Nora let her have her lemon wedge and smiled. “So, how are things with Jason?”

“I don't know. Sandy hasn't called in a couple of weeks.”

“That's probably because he's filming on location out in Hawaii. I'm surprised Titus and Ed didn't push him to take you.”

“Wish he had. I understand there's supposed to be good surf there.”

That made Nora blink. “You surf?”

“Just started. Bass taught me.”

“That's Miles' super hot bestie, right?” 

Charlie felt a hot stab of something nameless shoot through her. She tamped it down quickly. “Yeah, that's him. He owns a security company back home. Handles large events and private accounts just about everywhere. Takes care of our security here and Missouri. Had the Nashville property, too, but Dad sold that one when he bought the place here.” She thought on that for a moment. “I think Brad Paisley bought it.”

Nora nodded as their sandwiches arrived. “Good to know. Do they do body guards?”

“Yeah, they do. Why?” She saw that Nora looked a bit uncomfortable. “What's wrong?”

“Don't tell your father. You know how he gets.”

“Okay, now I really want to know. What's happening?”

Nora sighed. “I've gotten some...concerning mail. Some people out there can take a role you play too seriously. I play a woman with magical powers and they think I'm some kind of witch. Usually it's nothing to worry about, but I've been getting a hinky feeling lately, like I'm being watched. And not by the guys with the cameras.”

Charlie frowned. “I don't get it. Why just you? I mean, Miles is playing a were-lion. No one's targeting him?”

“Probably because he's a hell of a lot scarier.”

“Well, does studio security know? What about the police?”

“They all think it's just your garden variety crazy.” Nora shook her head. “Maybe I'm seeing too much in it.”

“Or maybe not.” Charlie noticed that Nora did look tense when talking about it. She reached across the table and took her cell phone. “I'll put in Bass' number. Call him. He'd probably love an excuse to come back out here anyway.”

“Thanks, Charlie. I hope everyone else is right, but I just want to be sure, you know.”

~***~

“Yo, Sandy! What's up?”

_Good morning, Miss Matheson. Mr. Neville has a charity event to attend tomorrow evening. He will pick you up at five thirty._

“Sounds like a plan. What kind of event?”

_World Wildlife Fund. It's a dinner and dance._

Charlie frowned. “That doesn't sound like him.”

Sandy paused. _His mother is the chairman of the local chapter._

“Ah! Now it makes more sense. All right. I'll be ready.”

_I'll let Mr. Neville, Miss._

~***~

_Haute Cuisine_

It wouldn't be so bad if there was more of it. 

“So, Charlie, you've been causing quite a stir in the fashion world lately. Is this one yours?” She had been seated by one of Julia Neville's friends. Charlie thought she might be an actress, though she couldn't recall where she'd seen her. She couldn't recall her name.

“Yes, it is.”

“It's gorgeous. Are you going to be launching a line of your own?”

She blinked. “Uhm...no. That's not anything I really have an interest in. I just do this for myself. It's...a hobby.”

“Such a shame.” Barbara. That was her name. She picked up her glass of wine, swirling it a bit before taking a sip. “I would love to have one of your creations for award season. You should consider it.”

Their plates were cleared away as a band started up. Julia and Tom, Jason's parents, smiled at one another. Charlie watched as Tom got up and pulled his wife's seat out. “Are you two not going to join us?”

“Oh, Charlie doesn't care much for dancing.” 

That was the first time she'd heard Jason acknowledge her presence outside of picking her up. But, really? She didn't care for dancing? What planet was he from?

Julia saw the inconsistency as well. “Really? But you're so good at it.”

Oh, great, now Jason was looking confused. You would think that he would have at least done some research on her if he was supposed to be her 'boyfriend'. Still, they had a story to maintain. 

“I'm not much for club dancing. They're usually crowded to the point of being uncomfortable.” Maybe he'd take a hint about the clubbing if nothing else.

So, the one good thing about the night and she had to miss it because she “didn't care for dancing”. 

It was also only the second time he drove her home. This time, however, he didn't immediately get on his phone.

“So...you dance?”

Wow. He was talking to her. “Yeah. I'm...kind of known for it. It's my thing.”

“Oh.” He frowned slightly as he watched the road. “I didn't know that. Titus said you were a musician. Violin, right?”

“And fiddle. Same instrument. Different styles. I'm mostly fiddle these days.”

“Ah. I don't listen to that kind of music.”

No joke. “I kind of figured that out, given your taste in clubs.”

He frowned again. “You don't like the clubs?”

“No, I don't like the clubs. They too crowded, the music barely qualifies to be called music and you can't hear yourself think let alone what the person you're with is saying. I listen to you and your friends practically shout yourself hoarse every time we go.”

“You've never said anything.”

She couldn't stop the chuff that escaped her. “This is the most you've said to me since this all started. We've been at this for...what..two and half months and I don't know anything about you other than you're name is Jason Neville and you're an actor.” She thought a moment. “And you drink a bit too much. Considering the people I hang around with, that's saying something.”

His hands tightened on the wheel. She must have touched a nerve. “Look, we both know this is all for show. You wanna cut bait and run, go for it. You're not gonna crush my feelings.”

He didn't respond. They had just pulled in through the gate and came to a stop in front of her house. She released her seat belt and opened the door. 

“Maybe...maybe I could come in for a bit.”

Charlie looked at him. That was different. “No. You can't. Good night, Jason.”

~***~

She loved her crossbow. Her dad had gotten it for her when she was sixteen. He preferred black powder, but she liked the crossbow. 

It was legal through all the different seasons.

“And, again, who brings down the first one of the season?” She shut the lid on the ice chest where the deer she'd hunted was now in rough quarters and buried in ice. It was big enough it took two chests. They were now sitting on a slight downward slope so that the water could drain from the plugs as the ice melted. 

She grinned at the four men propped against the lid of her hot tub, lifted her hands and pointed to herself with both index fingers. “It was me. Like always. Because I'm awesome.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “You know, kid, humility is a virtue.”

“Yeah, my dad never taught me that one.” That got her a laugh from the other three. “Maybe if you did a little less beer hunting and a little more deer hunting, you might beat me.”

“You do remember I was the one who taught you how to hunt, right?”

“You taught me the basics. Bass and Jim taught me how to be good at it.” Her two teachers grinned brightly.

“All right. All right. You got the first one of the season. Quit bragging all ready and get cleaned up. You're a mess.”

“That's because I'm awesome and I got a deer.” She still turned around and headed into the house, leaving Miles to get ragged by their friends for losing. Again.

She was back home. Finally! 

Real estate in Southern Missouri was cheap. Mainly because the terrain wasn't that friendly to building in most places. The band had secured a three hundred acre spread which they divided into four seventy-five acre parcels. Their land was heavily wooded and remote. Her house was a log construction with high ceilings, native stone for the fireplace and a killer kitchen. 

It also had a bitching master suite. Charlie took her time scrubbing herself clean, using scent-away body wash. It was standard practice during hunting season. She even had special detergent for her laundry. 

She came out of the bath in a pair of terry shorts and a t-shirt to find Bass waiting semi-patiently. “Something wrong?” She knew what was wrong, but it was fun to screw with him.

She wasn't, however, expecting the look he gave her, sweeping his eyes over her from head to toe and back. 

“I'm just waiting for my turn at the shower.” He stepped closer to her. Close enough that she could feel his body heat. “You done?”

She swallowed, looking up into his eyes. “You're filthy. I just got clean.”

“You could always back away.” He stayed where he was. So did she. A slow, knowing grin touched his lips. “No?”

She took a breath to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say.

Bass' grin turned into a smile. He winked at her. “I guess the shower's all mine, now.” He walked around her, not moving any further away until he was behind her, and claimed her bathroom for himself.

The click of the door shutting gave her permission to breath normally again. “Wow.” It was just a whisper. Barely even audible. Turning around, she looked at the closed door until she heard the shower come on, then she shook herself free and escaped her bedroom.

Miles was coming out of her guest room in a pair of jeans, shirtless and barefoot, toweling his hair dry. He looked at her with an amused frown. “You look spooked, kid. Something wrong?”

 _No. Nothing. Either your best friend upped the flirting or I'm reading way too much into things._ “Yeah. My dad is running around my house shirtless. Your fan girls aren't here, Pops. Put a shirt on.”

She made to walk around him, only to have him grab her head in the crook of his arm and started in on her head. 

“Ahhh! Let go!”

“What did you say? I can't hear you!”

“I'm too old for noogies!”

He increased the pressure. “You're never too old for noogies!”

Ha. That's what he thought. 

Charlie shifted her weight so that both of them crashed to the hall floor. It got her free of the hold so that she could start fighting back in earnest. She didn't stand a chance. Miles was all legs and arms and had a good forty pounds of muscle on her. She wasn't, however, someone who gave up easily.

Jeremy stepped past them. “Hey! Easy! You almost made me spill my beer!”

“Jeremy! Get him off of me!”

“Heh. I'm not getting in the middle of that. Get yourself out.” He walked into the guest room to claim the shower as Jim came around the corner from the kitchen with her phone in hand. 

“Charlie. You got a call.”

She growled and tapped out so she could answer the phone. 

“Heh. Who's the winner now?”

“Don't get full of yourself.” She scrambled up and took her phone from Jim. The number was familiar. “Hey, Sandy.”

Jim and Miles both threw their hands up into the air and shouted, “Hey Sandy!”

Charlie rolled her eyes and flipped them off. “Ignore the ex-Marines. They're drunk. Que pasa, Chickie?”

_Hello Miss Matheson. Mr. Neville has made dinner reservations at Bernard's. He will pick you up at six thirty._

She blinked. “Huh?”

_Dinner. Tonight at Bernard's. Mr. Neville will be there to pick you up at six thirty._

“Uh, no he won't. I'm not there.”

That threw her. _I beg your pardon?_

“I'm not in California. I'm at my home in Missouri. The only dinner I plan to have tonight is fried catfish and corn on the cob.”

_I...see. Very well. I'll let Mr. Neville know._

Charlie set her phone down with a muted bark of laughter. Miles handed her a beer. “Aren't you supposed to be in the break up part of things?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I don't get it either. Haven't heard from him since that fund raiser thingy.” She leaned over the bar separating the kitchen from the great room. “You about done with that fish, Jim? Should you even be working with hot oil in your condition?”

“What do you mean? I'm sober as a priest.”

“You're rocking like a boat. You burn my house down, I'll kill ya. I believe I've already proven I'm a better shot than you washed up assholes.”

Both of them crowed at that. Miles grinned as he opened another beer. “Them's fighting words, Charlie. You sure you wanna start up with us?”

“What's she starting?” 

She jumped. She hadn't heard Bass coming down the hall. She, like Miles, was only wearing jeans. Bass, however, was considerably more upsetting to her equilibrium. It didn't help that he came to a stop way too close to her as he reached across to accept the beer from Miles. 

“She says she's a better shot than us.”

Bass took a swig, mulling it over. “She might be.”

“What?”

“She's younger. Still has perfect eyesight. She might be better.”

“Traitor.”

“Just facing facts.”

Charlie couldn't help but grin. Her phone rang again. She didn't know the number.

“This is Charlie.”

_Hi._

There was something familiar about that voice, but she couldn't put her finger on it. “Hi. Who's this?”

_It's Jason._

What the hell? “Okay. What's on your mind?”

_Sandra says you aren't available for dinner tonight._

“Yes, because I'm in Missouri.”

_When will you be back in town?_

“Not until mid-January. Why?”

He was silent for a protracted moment. _You didn't say you would be leaving town._

Seriously? “So? You didn't say anything about going to Hawaii. Look, Jason, it's done. We gave the press their pictures and you look like you actually held onto a girl for longer than a month. Go ahead and move onto the next one.” She turned around to find Bass still behind her, his expression concerned. “I gotta go. It's almost time to eat.”

She ended the call and met Bass' eyes. “What?”

“Why the hell is he calling? He's never called you himself.”

She shrugged. “Too lazy to try and find another fake girlfriend? I don't know. He'll get over it.” He didn't look convinced. “He'll get over it.”

He was tense. Miles picked up on it, too. “You think we should be concerned, Bass?”

He flicked his eyes to Miles, still hovering near her. “I don't know. I'll keep an eye on it.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This story is kind of fun. I get to write about some of my favorite things around here._

Sweat poured off her in spite of the AC. The reels and jigs were fast paced and demanding, with only maybe a sixteen bar rest between sets. The slip jig she was on was a graceful piece. She felt like she was flying as she made her way across the floor. She kept her feet moving in time until the final measure of the piece, ending with her feet perfectly placed.

“You always look so peaceful when you dance.”

Looking up into the mirror, she saw Bass standing in the door. “Hey. Not hunting today?”

He picked up the bottle of water on her chair and uncapped it, handing it to her. “Nah. I figured you wouldn't be since you have one on ice. Thought I'd keep you company.”

A flutter went through her midsection. She'd pushed herself too hard. That was probably it. She took a deep pull from the water bottle.

“I remember that day.” He nodded to a shelf that had a trophy and sash on it. “You were so excited.”

“I remember my mother discounting it because I only came in second place. I didn't get to dance competitively after that. She never quite accepted that it was a major accomplishment for me to have even been invited to Worlds. Very few American dancers ever get that far. To place second against girls who actually are part of that culture and would have had more opportunities to perform and compete was amazing.”

“Miles would have made sure you got to continue competing if you'd said something.”

“It was before I found out he was my father.”

“But he knew he was. And it wouldn't have mattered even if he hadn't. You were his girl whether daughter or niece.”

She swallowed more water and shrugged. “It's okay. To tell the truth, I missed the dancing but I didn't miss the costumes or the wig. That thing weighed a ton.”

He grinned at her. “Yeah, but you were damn cute in that get up.” She rolled her eyes at him and he grinned brighter. “How long have you been at it?”

She raised up the bottom of her shirt and mopped at her brow. With her eyes covered she didn't see the dark look that went through Bass' eyes as he took in the smooth skin of her belly. Looking back up and towards the clock on the wall she blinked in surprise. “Wow. Time got away from me. I've been her for about two and a half hours.”

“You need protein, then. Those muscles of yours must be screaming. Why don't you go rinse off while I hook you up.”

She grinned. “Sure thing, Coach.” She finished off her water and handed him the empty bottle on her way out. He thumped it lightly against her head as she headed off towards her bathroom. She made quick work of showering and came back to the kitchen in a pair of shorts and a tee that would be too cool for the chill Autumn air outside but were just right in the great room with the roaring fire in the central hearth.

Bass set a plate of eggs scrambled with cheese, toast already spread with butter and cherry preserves and what was probably the last of the venison and rabbit sausage from the previous year. “Your breakfast, my lady.” 

“You have outdone yourself, good sir. I shall have to consider giving you a raise.”

“My lady is too kind.” He set a glass before her and filled it with orange juice, nodding to the hand-held radio seated in a charging station where the bar and wall met. “Not a peep from the boys so far.”

“Miles is probably on his best non-alcohol behavior in hopes of beating me.” She shoveled a forkful of eggs into her mouth. So good.

“I know he is. He didn't even take a flask. The same thing, every year.”

“Well, to be fair, being able to use the same weapon all season long may put me at an advantage.”

“And I applaud you on your choice of weapon. The crossbow was an important invention when it came to weapons and warfare. It was an equalizer on the battlefield since anyone could learn how to use one and be a fairly decent shot in under a week rather than the years of training and practice required for a longbow.”

Bass was such a nerd when it came to history. Especially military history. But he came up with the most interesting tidbits. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it is. It was also a bit too useful at times. The change in knights from chain mail to plate armor was because of the crossbow. It was an attempt to counteract the armor piercing ability, but even the heaviest plate couldn't stand up to a steel bolt. In 1217 crossbowmen at the Battle of Lincoln were ordered to aim for the horses rather than the knights, because the knights were of noble birth and therefore more valuable when it came to ransom demands. The Church tried to ban the use of crossbows by Christians in 1139 and Pope Innocent II denounced it as 'hateful to God and unfit for Christians'.”

Damn. “Have you ever considered going into teaching?”

“Only if I could teach at an all girl boarding school. One with those cute little plaid skirts.” She rolled her eyes at him and he smiled back, unrepentant. “Coffee?”

“Please.” She accepted a mug of blessed caffeine. “So, you gave up a chance to one up my father to hang out with boring ole me?”

“You're anything but boring.”

“Smart man. What should we do? The deer won't be ready to process for another two days.”

“I don't know. What would you like to do? I wouldn't suggest fishing, at least not out here. Some idiot may shoot us by mistake. And taking the ATVs out would just be rude. We'd spook the game.”

“So nothing woods related.” She thought about it, chewing a bite of sausage as she did so. “Oh! Carthage? I haven't been to the chapel in ages.”

That took him by surprise. “Okay. We can do that.” He shook his head as he took her empty plate. “I didn't realize you still liked those big eyed things.”

“They're adorable! And it's beautiful. Let's go.”

“All right. But you'd better put on something more weather appropriate.” He cleaned up the mess he made while she changed into a pair of worn jeans, (White Stag) and an old Razorbacks sweatshirt. Bass sneered at the faded red with a white running hog on the front.

“You know a tiger can rip a pig apart, right?”

“Not if the boar gores the kitty cat first.” She grinned at him. “Those tusks'll rip a furry belly right open.” She flounced by him with a little hop-step. He closed the door behind them and walked with her to his shiny black SUV. 

The truck had great suspension and premium tires, but the roads on the mountain were what they were. No amount of engineering could completely eliminate the rocking and jarring motion, and going over twenty-five miles per hour would shred even the best tires. It took them forty minutes to get to pavement. After that it was smooth sailing for the eighty minute trip to Carthage, Missouri and the Precious Moments Chapel.

Charlie wasn't a bible thumper, she rarely even went to church. Her brother called her and Miles “CEOs”, meaning 'Christmas and Easter Only', which was pretty much true. That being said, it was just damn hard not to like Precious Moments. The figurines were sweet and touching, with ones done for everything from representing traditional Christian values to recognizing the courage and bravery of soldiers, police and firefighters. 

And the park was lovely. The grounds kept manicured year around and the buildings designed to be both inspirational and complimentary. Her favorite time to come was in early to mid May, when the temperature was just right and the Bradford pears were in bloom. A light breeze would catch the branches, sending white petals from the blooms drifting down and around as it whistled through the branches. Fall was nice, too, with the leaves changing into a riot of colors. 

But the chapel was the best part. Inspired by Sistine Chapel but with Sam Butcher's own touch. The colors were more along the pastel lines and you wouldn't find any nudes. There were gorgeous stained glass windows and a massive mural called “Hallelujah Square” that commemorated the lives of children lost far too soon in their lives. Where the Sistine Chapel inspired awe and wonder at the rich colors and the almost incomprehensible amount of work and talent that had gone into, the Precious Moments Chapel invoked a feeling of peace and tranquility. 

Then there was the view of the mini-castle on Wedding Island. Sadly, the island had been closed along with a few other attractions in the park as the tastes of the average visitor changed. There was still plenty to be seen and enjoyed, however.

Bass walked with her as she went from one piece of art to the next, studying each and finding something new in most of them. There was a tour going on, but they weren't part of it. Charlie liked to take her time. 

“You are a pile of contradictions, Charlie.” His voice was soft. His 'church voice' so to speak. This place just seemed to require soft words.

“How so?”

“Yesterday you shot, field dressed and rough cut a buck that probably weighed more than you. Today you're browsing images of cartoon children, most of them portraying images of peace and faith. You disdain the media and fashion industry for encouraging girls to strive for an unattainable idea of beauty and charges outrageous sums of money for clothing that will be out of style in under a month, but you throw yourself into hobbies where you create your own clothes that follow the designs popular during the Golden Age as well as dabble in making jewelry. You make your living playing American country music, but I know for a fact that your iPod includes things like Gaelic Storm and the Medieval Baebes.” He shrugged. “You're...well rounded.”

She pondered that, then nodded. “I guess. Does that make me weird?”

He gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, but it's a good kind of weird.” He looked down, his eyes studying her face. “You're the best kind of weird, Charlie.”

She felt pinned in place, trapped by his bright blue eyes. She felt as though she were being drawn to him, even leaning forward a bit, her weight shifting to her toes. The insane thought that he might be about to kiss her crossed her mind, and she thought he might have even been leaning down to bring his lips to hers...

...then there was the sound of someone clearing their throat and they jumped back a bit. The tour had made its way into the same outer hall they were visiting. A park employee was leading a group of senior citizens and a couple of kids in their early to mid-teens, one of which was busy with his cell phone, ear buds firmly in place. A couple of them gave knowing, amused smiles their way. Charlie felt her face heat up and Bass tried to cover the moment with a cut off chuckle.

“Excuse us. We should be moving along anyway.” He grabbed her hand and gently tugged her towards the door on the other end of the hall.

They stopped by the gift shop where Charlie lingered for a good thirty minutes, perusing each shelf and eventually purchasing what was clearly to be a garden decoration in the form of a turtle with a little girl polishing its domed shell. She already had a couple on her deck, situated in little raised beds with decorative river rock that, had she had the chance to be at home more often, would likely be planters.

“Getting hungry, yet?”

“I could eat.”

“Anywhere in particular?”

Charlie thought a moment as Bass' phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked. “Lamberts? I never get to eat there any more.”

“Sure. It'll be a bit of a wait right now, but I'm willing to bear it. Hold on. It's Kirk.” He answered the call and began talking to what she guess was one of his employees. He handed her the keys to the SUV and she went ahead to settle her purchase into the floorboard of the back seats and get buckled in. She reached over and started up the truck while he remained outside talking. After about five or six minutes, he hung up and got in. 

“Problem?”

He dipped his head to one side a bit. “Maybe. That was the guy I assigned to your friend, Nora.”

“He find anything?”

“Nothing concrete, but he thinks there may be something there. Can't tell yet whether it's a serious potential threat or possible vandalism, but he's going to stay on her just to be safe.”

Charlie sighed. “I don't get people sometimes. She's an actress. It's a part. She doesn't really control the dead and take over people's minds with a single word.”

“Some people have a tentative grip on reality, Charlie. Either because their minds aren't wired right, they fried them with drugs or something terrible shatters them. It's sad and far from fair, but there's little that can be done to change it. Now we'll do our job and keep Nora safe.”

She considered it a moment. “You...haven't told Dad, have you?” He looked over at her, brow raised in question. “She was worried about Dad finding out. She thought he might take it poorly.”

Bass snorted as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the highway. “He would. I almost had to sit on him when that guy got paroled.”

That made her frown. “What guy?”

And she surprised him again. “The guy out of Louisiana. Back when you were sixteen. When we tightened up your security.” She gave him a lost look. “One of your prison fans? Only this one was in for having sexual relations with a girl under the age of consent. One that they could prove, and they suspected there were about three or four more. We read your fan mail before you saw it, so you never actually saw the ones from inmates or with potential threats, but that one was getting fixated.”

“I only knew that there were letters from prison inmates. No one ever said anything about a security concern.” She tamped down on a queasy feeling. “What happened?”

Bass sighed. “He showed up at some of the concerts, about twelve of them. He was following the tour. Got rooms in the same hotels when he could and camped out in his car when he couldn't. He hadn't actually done anything wrong so we couldn't do much about it until he did it long enough that he missed his check in with his PO and was in violation of his parole. Miles knew he was out there and I ended up assigning extra guys to babysit him so he didn't go out and rip the guy's head off.”

“Why didn't anyone say anything?”

“You were sixteen and already under a lot of stress. Don't you remember how we kept suggesting possible schools so you could get off the road and maybe have something close to a few normal years?”

“I remember you guys kept trying to pack me off to a boarding school.” He winced and she caught it. “What?” He shook his head, so she ran over different possibilities in her head. The best possible reason hit her upside her head. 

“The boarding school idea was the fall back. Miles originally wanted to send me back to Chicago.”

He grimaced. “Yeah. Shit. You are too damn clever. Should have been a spy.”

“I take it that my loving mother had issues with that idea.”

“She thought it would be disruptive. Might be upsetting to Danny.”

“Bullshit. She didn't want the reminder that she screwed around on her husband living under the same roof so everyone was reminded of it every day.”

“I'm not going to talk smack about Rachel with you, Charlie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I've never liked her. Anything I say could be seen as trying to color your perceptions, and your relationship with your mother is between the two of you.”

She scoffed. “What relationship? She doesn't even bother to send me a card on my birthday or Christmas.”

“That's her idiotic mistake. It'll come back to bite her in the ass one day.”

They fell silent for a bit, just watching the countryside roll by the windows. Charlie scooted her seat as far back as it would go and put her feet up onto the dash. In spite of the conversation just finished, they sat together in a comfortable silence, the hum of the road under the tires their only music until they got to Ozark and pulled into Lambert's. 

They lucked out. There were only four tour buses there and they only had to wait about twenty minutes to get a table. They'd just placed their orders when Bass' phone buzzed again. He checked the number and smiled. “It's Miles.”

“We're not getting them take out. I am not their delivery girl.”

“Noted.” He accepted the call with a grin. “Hey Miles.”

A guy came out with a pot of fried okra. They didn't have their meals, yet, so Charlie tore off a length of the paper towel roll on the table and used it as a makeshift plate. She crunched on the okra while he talked.

“You're right. We're not at Charlie's. We decided to play tourist. Charlie wanted to go to the chapel out in Carthage.” 

He snagged a bite of okra and popped it into his mouth. The double doors swung open and a guy came out with a large baking sheet and a pair of tongs. “Hot rolls! Who wants hot rolls?!”

Charlie held up two fingers. The guy plucked a soft ball sized roll from the sheet and hurled it her way, clearing a good eight feet. She caught it, bouncing it between her palms a couple of times before setting down onto their paper towel plate. The guy waited until she was looking back up to lob another one her way. 

There was a reason why Lambert's was called “the home of the throwed rolls”.

“Yep, that was the hot roll call. Charlie wanted Lambert's.” He snagged another piece of okra. “Sorry. No can do. I'm under strict orders not to get carry out.” He popped it into his mouth and chewed as he listened. “Yeah, but Charlie's right here and I have to drive home with her. You guys will just have to fend for yourself.” He winked at her. “Well, next time maybe you should stay at the house for some Miles and Charlie time. Right now is Bass and Charlie time. Get your own dinner.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket before grabbing his roll.


	5. Chapter 5

They rolled back up to her door long after the sun had gone down, but the front lights were still on. Charlie and Bass got out of the SUV to look at Miles, Jeremy and Jim seated in chairs on the front porch. Each had his muzzle loader across his lap, idly wiping the barrel and stock with a rag as though cleaning off finger prints. 

Charlie frowned, her head tilting to one side in question.

Bass rolled his eyes. “Really?”

Jim spat to the side. He didn't chew tobacco and there was a bag of sunflower seeds on the little driftwood table between him and Jeremy. “Coming up here a bit late, aren't you, Boy?”

Charlie put her hands onto her hips, one foot tapping.

Miles nodded his head to one side. “Seems to me that a proper gentleman wouldn't be playing fast and loose with a young lady's reputation this way.”

“Very funny. Don't you three have your own houses? You don't have to skulk around Charlie's. Shouldn't you be running on home to Sophie, Jim?”

Jim grinned, teeth bright white against his dark skin. “She thinks it's funny, too.”

“Great,” Bass snarked while looking back at Charlie, “we're surrounded by comedians.”

“Dad?” Miles smiled serenely at his daughter. “Go home.”

“Well, boys, it appears we're not wanted.” Miles ambled up from his seat, rested the barrel of his gun on his shoulder and gave an exaggerated sniff. “I don't stay where I'm not wanted.”

It was Charlie's turn to roll her eyes as the trio left, Jim on an ATV and Miles in his truck with Jeremy. Once everyone had vanished into the dark, she turned back to Bass. “I need a drink.”

“I'll pour.”

Two in the morning found them seated on the large sofa in the great room with an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table and a bad B movie on the flat screen. They weren't watching the movie, too busy talking. 

“So, we break into their gym and the dog is right there in a top notch kennel, chewing on a plushie of our team's mascot. Miles was at least two sheets to the wind and got pissed off.”

“What did he do?”

“What we came to do. We took the dog.”

Charlie covered her eyes. “This sounds bad.”

Bass grinned. “It was this butch bull dog. The team was always gabbing about how much of an alpha male he was. So, we dress it up in this hot pink ballerina tutu, put a matching bow around his neck and arranged for him to wander onto the field during the first quarter.” He laughed. “They were so pissed. It started a fight between both teams.”

That made her crack up. Bass smiled, watching her. Charlie was the kind of girl to laugh with everything in her. Something tugged inside of him. “You never really got to do the normal high school thing, did you?”

She shook her head, still smiling softly. “Nah. I was too busy doing the tour bus thing. Breakfast at greasy road side diners. Traveling for hours or a day or more, than crashing in a hotel. Sound checks. Practice. Concerts. Practice. Autograph sessions. Practice.”

He chuckled. “Ever get any time to practice?” She rocked sideways to bump his shoulder. 

“I remember you were there. A lot. Probably more than what was good for the head of a security company with more clients than just us.”

“The beauty of my job is that I hire good people that can do their jobs and can do mine from just about anywhere.”

“A lot of ex-military. Miles, too. I remember most of our roadies were ex-military.”

“Yeah, and look what happened with the one guy we hired who wasn't. I had a hard reminding myself not to let Miles kill him after he tried to force himself on you.”

She heard a growl in his voice at the memory. A little shiver went through her. “That was a scary moment.” She'd been fourteen. The day after that self defense had been added to her already hefty regime.

Bass reached over and pulled her in closer. She snuggled up into the curve of his body easily, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“You know, I think that's when I really started crushing on you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You were the one I could always trust.”

“You can trust all my guys. And you can trust the band. We'd do anything for you.”

“Yeah, but you're not Miles or Jeremy. You're certainly not Jim. And your none of the other guys, either. You're...Bass.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Charlie smiled up at him. “I like Bass. I have for a long time.”

He smiled back down at her. “I like Charlie, too. I have for a long time.” He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers at waiting for her to decide whether or not she wanted to deepen it, then slipping his tongue in for a taste once she did.

Bass pulled her closer, groaning into her mouth when her hands trailed up over his shoulders, caressed his neck and buried her fingers into his hair. They continued the kiss, drinking one another in until he broke it, forehead resting against hers to catch his breath. “Bed.”

“Yeah. Bed.”

He stood up, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist so he could resume kissing her as he walked them both to the room at the end off the hall. He kicked the door closed behind them before lowering her down to the bed, hand moving to the waist of her jeans and working them open.

Charlie tugged on his shirt. He straightened and pulled it off over his head and tossed it aside. Reaching for her shirt she peeled it off and threw it down to join his. They made quick work of the rest of their clothes, not caring where they landed.

He was beautiful. She knew that already. She'd trained with him. Had seen him padding around either her house or Miles' in nothing but jeans or a pair of shorts after a shower. She had memorized every ripple of muscle on his body. This was the first time she had permission to touch them. She took her time, tracing him with her fingers before leaning forward and pressing her lips to him. 

Bass groaned. He pushed her back and down onto the bed. “Don't make me rush, Charlie. I don't want to hurt you.”

She blushed at the unspoken reminder. “How did you know?”

He smiled. “I'm in charge of your security and safety, Charlotte. There's not much you can do without me knowing about it.”

“That's a little creepy, Bass.” She couldn't help but smile back.

“Maybe, but I think you like the fact that I keep such good care of you. At least just a little.”

She licked her lips. “Yeah. I do.”

Bass took his time, touching and savoring her. He waited until she was near the point of insanity before he took himself in hand and pushed slowly into her. The tight vaginal muscles gripped him while at the same time needing to learn to stretch to accommodate him. He was careful, giving her time to adjust and rubbing the swollen nub of her clit to override the discomfort until he was fully seated within her.

~***~

Loud, raucous voices drifted down the hallway. Charlie woke up first, taking a moment to determine what she was hearing. Her heart leapt and she levered herself up to shake Bass' shoulder. “Wake up.”

He grumbled softly as he turned towards her. “Morning.” He pressed his lips against the swell of her beasts. 

“Get dressed. Now.”

“Why?” He pulled her closer. “I've nothing else to do today.”

“Because my dad just got here.”

As if on queue Miles' voice rang out, his footsteps coming down the hall. “Charlie? Get up! I need to show you something!”

“Shit!”

Bass sighed and moved up onto his elbows. “Miles!” Just in time, the knob of her door rattled, but did not turn. 

“Bass?”

“Remember how you asked me to make sure you didn't have to walk in on or hear anything?”

“Yeah? Wh...oh.” There was a pause. “Okay. Got it.”

Charlie frowned at the door and then at Bass. He shrugged. “He told me I should stop dicking around and make a move already. Now...where were we?” He pulled her down for a kiss, his fingers threading into her hair. 

“Hey, Bass?”

He stopped and looked at the door. “What?”

“Are you guys just starting, just finishing or kind of in the middle? 'Cause I want Charlie to see my deer is bigger than the one she got.”

“Miles?”

“Yeah, Bass?”

“Get away from the door or I'll fucking shoot you.”

“In the middle, then. Okay. You guys come out and join us when ever your done. And, you know, dressed. Please. On the dressed part.”

“MILES!”

“I'm going.” Bass glared at the door as the heavy foot falls faded away. A moment later there was a burst of male laughter with some cat calls sprinkled in. 

“Cock blocking sons of bitches.”

Buzz killed, Bass threw the covers aside and got up. He gave the door another glare before looking back at Charlie. She was sitting up on the bed, her long hair beautifully tousled, cascading over one shoulder to cover a breast. With the sunlight pouring through the windows behind her, she looked like a damn angel.

Bass leaned back down and pressed a deep kiss to her mouth. “I love you.”

Her lips curved up into a smile. “I think I kind of love you, too.”

He kissed her again. “We should probably get washed up and dressed. Otherwise they're gonna take turns coming back here to bug us through the door.”

She sighed. “Why is my house the one we always use?”

“Because you have the better kitchen. And I rigged up a bitching home theater system for you.”

~***~

“Awww, it's the lovebirds.” Jeremy gave them a broad grin. “So glad you two finally drug yourselves out of bed to join us.”

Charlie glared at him. “Are you guys going to do this for long?”

Jim set two mugs of coffee onto the bar for them. “For as long as it's funny.”

“You guys are assholes.”

“Yep, but we're your family.” Miles got her into a headlock long enough to press a firm kiss onto her head. “I really need you two to make this work, because if Bass breaks your heart, I'll have to kill my best friend. I really don't want to do that.”

“You know, most fathers would be pissed about this.”

“Since when have I been like most fathers? I want you happy. And I want you safe. Bass can do both.” He shrugged. “And now I don't have to put him up anymore when he's here with us. He's your problem now.”

“I love you, too, Miles.”

“I know. I'm such a great guy. I mean, I'm not even breaking your face for defiling my daughter.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “I'm hungry.” Bass immediately moved to the kitchen to start breakfast. Something none of the three guys didn't miss. Their expression brightened, smelling blood in the water until she gave a single, “Don't.” She was pretty sure Bass was smirking as he started raiding the fridge to throw together a late brunch.

They were seated around her table, enjoying a meal of eggs scramble with copious amounts of Spam and Velveeta, skillet fried potatoes and toast. They'd just started on the third pot of coffee when Charlie's cell phone on the nearby bar started buzzing. Jeremy picked it up and tossed it to her on his way to get another jar of salsa. 

“This is Charlie.” She smacked Miles' hand to keep him from stealing her toast. It was like trying to  
live with a pack of wolves.

_Charlie, what the fuck is going on?_

She frowned, trying to put a name with the voice. It took a second. “Jason?”

_Yeah, 'Jason'. What the hell are you doing out there?_

Everyone else at the table was looking her way. She shrugged. “Right now I'm eating breakfast. What wrong?”

_You tell me. What's with that damn picture?_

“What picture?”

_The one of you and that guy that's been hitting the internet for the past day. Who the fuck is he?_

“I honest have no idea what you're talking about.”

 _Oh, really?_ He was quiet for a moment. A second later her phone buzzed again. She pulled it away from her ear and saw she had received a picture text. Pulling it up, she blinked. 

“Oh. That picture.” She frowned. “When did someone take that?” She turned her phone around to show Bass an image of him and her, apparently about to kiss in front of a beautiful stained glass window. It was a nice quality shot, but not overly so.

Bass got it. “The kid in the tour group. The one with the phone. He must have taken it and uploaded it to social media.”

“There really is no privacy any longer, is there?” She put the phone back to her ear. “That's Bass, Jason. And what we do together is none of your business. Our arrangement is over.” She ended the call without giving him time to respond and dropped her phone to the table so she could resume her breakfast. “Jerk.”

Miles and Bass exchanged a look. “I don't like it, Bass. He doesn't seem to be able to take a hint.”

“I see that. Could be pride. He usually drops the girl, not the other way around. He might be having  
a hard time coping with Charlie giving him the bum's rush.” Bass picked up Charlie's phone. “I'll touch base with Ed. Have him give his fellow agent a call and tell him to get his boy back on his leash. Excuse me.” 

Miles watched him as he left and looked back to Charlie. “In the meantime, I think when we get back to LA you should make sure you're not anywhere near him by yourself.”

“I'm not afraid of Jason. I can take that over muscled pretty boy.”

“Humor me. It's a dad thing.”


	6. Chapter 6

_“And we're back. Thank you for sticking with us through the break. I'm here with my guest, Jason Neville. He's been kind enough to take a break from his latest project, _Afterburn_ , and his last movie, _Base Jump_ is still in theaters and going strong around the world as it enters is third month. Jason, congratulations on your recent success. It is rare these days for a movie to hang on this long and remain in the top five.”_

_“Thank you, Brenda. We've all been very pleased with how the film has been received.”_

_“And you are up for several awards this coming season. Congratulations.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“It appears that just about everything is going your way. What about these rumors regarding the breakup between you and Charlotte Matheson? There is a lot of chatter on the social networks since that pic surfaced last month of her and a mystery man.”_

_“Anyone can photoshop anything these days. Charlie spent the last few months with her family and I've been working. She'll be back in LA for the award season, and I believe everyone is in for a treat when the Grammys roll around.”_

_“Really? Any details?”_

_“Not really my place to say. All I can tell you is that it will be something. Just like everything else she does.”_

~***~

“Back in LA. Yay. Ra.”

Bass gave a chuckle as he moved towards the bedroom with their bags. “Have you explained to your father how much you dislike this city?”

“Yes. He told me I was welcome to stay home.”

“So why do you keep coming back?”

“Because this is where the band is. I can't work with them if I'm not here with them.” She pulled off her shoes and dropped them on the floor by the sofa. “  
Beside, Mairead is going to be here next week to start working on our choreography.”

“And you have the album launch party the week after that. Ed's secretary sent my office everything on your promotional appearances.”

“I think I may have the only security service that also doubles as personal assistants.”

“I do strive to provide the highest quality service for my very special clients.” Bass stepped out of the bedroom door, his hand reaching out to take her elbow gently and pull her close to kiss her. “You are looking tense after that flight. Perhaps we can figure out something to help you relax.”

She couldn't help but smile. “Perhaps a massage is in order.”

“The customer is always right.” He started walking backwards into the bedroom, taking her with him as he did so.

~***~

Hours of work. All of it rewarding.

“Why, exactly, are you practicing in a corset? Not that I'm complaining.”

Charlie undid the busks in the front. “Because we'll be wearing corset gowns for the performance. I need to get used to dancing in one.”

Bass handed her a bottle of water. “You're having the time of your life, aren't you.”

Her grin was more than a bit dopey. “Yeah. I kinda am. She's amazing. So graceful, and she's gorgeous.”

“Yeah, she's all right.”

“All _right_? Have you really _seen_ her?” She looked at him with disbelief, which made him chuckle. 

“A smart man does not admit to his girlfriend that he thinks another woman is attractive.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Do I look like one of those high-strung, self-doubting bitches?”

“Not in the slightest.” He took her by her shoulders and kissed her. “You just may be the perfect woman.”

“Damn right I am.” She grinned up at him the same time his phone started to buzz. “You should get that. Could be work.”

“The demands made on a boss.” He checked the number and accepted the call. “Hey, Kirk. What have you got for me?”

Charlie listened with interest. She relaxed somewhat when Bass smiled. 

“That's good work, Kirk. Make sure to copy Legal on everything. Nice job.” He ended the call and smiled. “Nora's good. Kirk identified her stalker and uncovered enough evidence to interest the police. She was arrested and is awaiting arraignment.

That surprised her. “ _She_?”

Bass shrugged. “It's a woman. A pretty tech savvy one at that. She had rigged a device to break through Nora's alarm system to get into her house and she had an illegal firearm. A strong case can be made for malicious intent.”

Charlie let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Bass.”

“You're welcome. _Now_ can I tell Miles?”

“That should really be Nora's call, don't you think?”

Bass shook his head. “Those two need to get their shit together.”

“Who?”

“Miles and Nora.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Oh, come on! You mean you haven't figured it out? It's obvious. That chemistry ain't just onscreen.”

“I fast forward through those parts and how would you know?”

“Because I'm his oldest and closest friend and no one knows him better. Believe me. Miles has it bad. And I saw them together during that press junket last. It's mutual.” His phone rang again. He checked the number and frown. “Huh. Don't know that one. Give me a minute. Sebatian Monroe.”

Charlie went through her stretches to keep her muscles from locking up. She was getting hungry. Maybe after a shower she and Bass could grab somethiing.

“Of course, Miss Harris. How about someplace public. _Torelli's_ in an hour, perhaps?” His expression was lined with concerrn. “I'll see you then.”

“I guess that means I'm on my own for lunch. Who was that?”

“That was your friend Sandy.”

Charlie frowned, thinking on the name. “Sandy as in Neville's PA Sandy?”

“The same. She wants to meet with me to discuss something. She sounded worried. Are you going to be terribly cross with me if I meet another woman for drinks?”

Why did Sandy want to talk to Bass? “No, as long as hands stay above the table and all clothes remain on.”

He smiled and kissed her. “That's what I love about you. You are perfectly confident in yourself. I'll call you when I'm done.”

~***~

Sandra Harris was a surprisingly beautiful young woman to be working as a personal assistant in Hollywood. Either she was still trying to get a break as an actress or model or she simply didn't care for that line of business. Bass noted the designer clothes and shoes and decided either Jason paid her very well or Harris had other means of financial support.

“Miss Harris?”

She looked up from what he suspected was a Long Island Iced Tea and blinked up at him with eyes that had the beginnings of dark circles forming. She hadn't slept well last night. “Mr. Monroe. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. When I learned you were in security, I figured you would be the best one to talk to.”

Bass shook her hand and slid into the booth across from her. “I'm glad you called. You sounded concerned over the phone.”

“I am.” She toyed with her napkin. “It's about Jason Neville. I think...he may be disconnecting from reality.”

He'd noticed, actually. “How so?”

“Miss Matheson informed me that the arrangement their agents came to had ended, however I'm not convinced that Neville has gotten the message.”

“How so?”

“This morning he told me to check with her to see when he should pick her up for the album launch party.”

He pressed his lips together in an irritated line. “Anything else?”

“Yes. When that photo showed up on Twitter of the two of you, he didn't take it well. He took it rather badly, if the truth is to be told. He got even angrier when Miss Matheson dismissed him out of hand.”

“How bad was his response?”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “Some property damage, but it was all his property so Mr. Andover swept it under the rug. He's...he's never been this way before. The other girls...” She faded off, frowning.

“What? Go with your gut. What do your instincts tell you?”

She considered the question for a long moment. “My father was Casey Harris.”

Bass blinked. “The guitarist?” She nodded. “No shit?”

“No shit. Our relationship was...rocky, but I still spent a lot of time with him. When I was in my mid-teens and he was this aging god of rock still screwing girls who were barely legal I got pissed about it and asked him why.” She shrugged. “He said 'because they still offer'. Sex was...just a thing to him by then. Women threw themselves at him from every direction, and he took them up on the offer. It was no big deal. That's what Mr. Neville was like. He could treat the girls like crap and they still spread their legs afterwards.”

Bass grimaced. “I know the type. Kind of pegged that about him already.”

“I figured as much, in your line of work. Still, he's never cared about the girls. And he's never cared if he doesn't get sex. One girl turns him down, another one will put out. He made a pass at me when I first started working for him, but when I told him I wanted to keep our working relationship professional, he was fine with it.”

“So what changed?”

She shook her head. “I don't know. Whatever it was, it was the night of that charity dinner his mother organized. The next morning he told me to get whatever information I could about Charlotte. What she did. What her likes and dislikes were. He wasn't happy when I wasn't able to find much. There's not a lot of information on her. You're very good at your job.”

“It's not hard with them. They haven't really gotten onto the whole social media bandwagon.”

That made Sandra smile. “Before then, she was just another pretty face. At least as far as he was concerned. Someone on his arm to make him look good. Everything was business as usual. I made the calls, let her know when to expect to be picked up and that was all. The sudden interest in her was...surprising. The next time I was instructed to contact her, she had left the city and informed me that the arrangement had come to a close. Only...”

“Neville didn't seem get it.” Bass signaled for another drink to be brought to her. “The outburst he had. Do you think he may be violent?”

She hesitated. “There have been...incidents. Fights. Times he lost his temper. So far as I know it's never involved a woman and Andover somehow always makes them go away. Now...I'm not so sure.”

Bass took that in, giving a slow nod. “All right. Thanks for coming to me about this.” He studied her for a moment. “Are you going to be all right? Maybe you should consider looking for another job. I'd hate for you to be caught up in one of his temper tantrums.”

A half-smile kicked up one side of her lips. “My mother's divorce attorney was amazing. He made sure a large chunk of the settlement went into a trust for me and placed with someone who knew what they were doing. By them time I came of age and got full access to it, it'd been steadily growing. I work because if I didn't I'd get bored. I emailed Mr. Neville my letter of resignation this morning after I tracked down your number.”

That made him smile. He pulled a couple of twenties out of his wallet and dropped them onto the table to pay for her drinks and a tip. “Good. I'd hate for you to end up in a bad way because you had the guts to say something.” He studied her for a moment, then pulled a business card from his wallet and gave it to her. “Send me your resume. I think we might be able to help you prevent any boredom.”

~***~

Charlie couldn't stop the groan that escaped her as she stretched tired muscles. 

“I thought you were supposed to be in excellent shape. Have you been slacking off?”

She glared at the beautiful man she could see through the open door to her bathroom standing at the vanity in nothing but a towel wrapped about his hips as he saw to his morning shave. “You try dancing almost nonstop for five or six hours a day and we'll see how chipper you feel.” 

“Someone's cranky this morning.”

She glared more and got out of bed. “Jerk.” It fizzled out into a yawn as she padded her way from the bed room and down the hall towards the kitchen, scratching her head as she did so. She needed coffee. Preferably with lots of cream and sugar. Maybe with some cocoa mix thrown in. She was putting in a filter when her doorbell rang.

That was different. No one in the compound bothered to knock or ring a doorbell. You were lucky if they called before walking in. She set the filter down and went to the door, opening it up to find a stunning brunette in a crisp pantsuit holding a venti Starbucks in one hand and a leather portfolio in the other. 

The woman smiled brightly. “Good morning, Miss Matheson. Your venti quad mocha. Whole milk. No whip.” She held out the coffee and Charlie took it in puzzled reflex as the woman opened the portfolio. “You have your final fitting for your dress for the Grammys this morning and then your schedule is clear until the launch party this evening.”

“Oh,” Bass started as he came into the room, thankfully dressed, “I meant to tell you last night but we got distracted. Charlie, this is Sandy. Sandy, Charlie. She's your new PA.”

She blinked. “Sandy as in...Neville's Sandy?”

“I felt that it was time I sought employment elsewhere. I'm happy for this opportunity to work for you.” Sandy smiled brightly past Charlie to Bass. “Good morning, Mr. Monroe.”

“Morning, Sandy. I take it my guys sent you Charlie's appointment calendar.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” Charlie stepped aside, taking a long pull of the blessed caffeine as she let her new PA into the house. “With the award season about to kick off, we are going to be very busy. Do you really spend this much time in practice? It's no wonder you're so good.”

“That's how you get to Carnegie Hall.” She liked Starbucks, she just usually didn't bother making the trip for a cup of coffee. Damn but this stuff was good.

Bass smiled and pressed a kiss to Charlie's temple. “I need to get to the venue for a once over, then meet with a potential new client. I'll meet up with you and the guys at the party tonight.” He kissed her again, this time on the lips now that she'd swallowed her coffee. 

“See you.” Charlie watched him, admiring the view from behind as he walked out the door, then turned her attention to Sandy. “Had breakfast, yet?”

“No, Ma'am. Mr. Monroe advised me not to.”

Charlie waved the 'ma'am' away. “If we're gonna work together, it's Charlie. Have a seat and tell me about yourself while I make us something.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If any of you are wondering what Miles' show is about, I'm saying that he and Nora are starring in the TV adaptation of the Kate Daniels series by Ilona Andrews. If you're looking for a new book series to try out, I recommend them. The idea is that instead of the usual kind of apocalypse the world is falling apart because magic is returning to the world. The results is that air and rail travel is dead, the oceans once again have sea monsters and there are mages, shape shifters of different flavors and vampires. These vamps don't sparkle, though. They are mindless killing machines that are piloted by necromancers like remote controlled cars. Check them out. They're fun._

“Now, I caught your performance at the Grammys with Mairead Nesbitt. Absolutely amazing. What was it like working with her?”

Charlie smiled brightly. She had no trouble being friendly to the professional busy bodies when they were talking about things she liked. “It was a dream come true. She is phenomenal and so sweet to work with. I want to be her when I grow up.”

“A lot of people would say thy you're already her equal. And we've found out something new about you with this last album. The bonus track, 'Daddy's Angel', you're the lead vocalist on that one. The album has only been out for a month and a half so far and it's already a favorite. It's even crossed over to pop stations. Why the decision to put you more out in the forefront?”

“I'm still not sure on that one myself. The guys came up with the idea. Dad writes a lot of songs, and sometimes he comes up with something that's a great song, but maybe not really meant for a male vocalist.”

“And 'Daddy's Angel' is one of them? Where did he get it from?”

“Oh, there's no way to answer that without making my father sound like a total sap.” Charlie paused for only a second. “So of course I'll tell you.” The studio audience laughed as she shifted in her seat. “Shortly after I came to live with him on the road, I was bored and being nosy like any other healthy teenage girl. I found the notebooks when I found this beat up, ratty looking thing that looked like it'd been hauled through Hell and back. And it had been. Dad had held on to it since he was a Marine deployed overseas. The whole thing was filled with nothing but poems, songs and letters he'd written to me from the moment he found out Mom was pregnant until he ran out of pages.”

The audience made various sounds of 'awww'. Brenda Moon joined them as she leaned in a little closer. “So he always knew you were his daughter?”

“Oh, yes. Always. I found out the same time the rest of the world did, and I was ticked. Teenage girls are already sullen and angry all the time, so that was not the best point in my life to learn I'd been lied to all those years. Essentially what happened was that the adults in my life decided that I'd be better off in a stable home with two parents present instead of a broken one with a father who was deployed into war zones and who could come home in a pine box at any time. Looking back on that now I can understand why they did it. It still hurts, but I get it.”

“You clearly have an excellent relationship with your father. Do you see much of your mother?”

She winced. “Mom and I aren't really that close. I actually get along better with Ben than I do her. Even though he knew I wasn't his daughter, he still loved me like I was, and I still feel more like I have two fathers rather than a father and an uncle. And I miss my bro-cuz and try to call him whenever I can and either fly out to see him or bring him out to see me whenever possible.”

“Oh, because he's both your brother and your cousin.”

“Exactly. He's my bro-cuz and I'm his sis-cuz. It's how we address each other much of the time, like when we answer the phone or if Mom is within earshot. She hates it and, as ornery little brats, it's our job to annoy her.”

That got her another laugh from the crowd to which she beamed one of her dimpled smiles.

Brenda flipped to her last note card. “So, Charlie, I have to ask what's on everyone's mind. The gossip blogs are on fire with this love triangle between you, your body guard and Jason Neville. What is up with that?”

Of course the fun conversation couldn't last. “It's times like these I want to punch my manager in the nose” She took a breath and reminded herself to be polite and keep smiling. The cameras were on. “There is no triangle. That thing with Neville was all publicity. Our agents cooked that up. It was never meant to be anything more than photos ops.”

“So there was nothing there?”

“Nothing at all. If the paparazzi were half as observant as they believe themselves to be they would have noticed that most of the times they caught us showing up at one night club or the other I was leaving by myself in under an hour. It only happened because some sick, twisted people started spreading rumors about me because I'm not really into dating.”

“I had Jason on my show not too long ago and he seemed genuinely invested.”

She couldn't keep from rolling her eyes at that. “If he were truly invested, he would have put more effort into finding out what I like to do instead of dragging me to clubs all the time.”

“What would be the kind of thing that Charlotte Matheson would like to do for a romantic outing?”

“I don't know about romantic, but I'd be happier taking a trip to a remote cabin by a lake to go fishing for the weekend. Or maybe go hiking or go floating down a river. Bass took me out and taught me how to surf. That was one of the best days I'd had in months.”

“So you're more of the outdoors type of person instead of dinner and dancing.”

“Definitely. I'm all for anything that allows me to get messy and doesn't require stilettos.”

~***~

“Charlie, it's just a reading.”

“No! How many times do we have to go through this? I'm. Not. Interested.”

Ed ran a hand through his perfect hair, ruining the clean lines. He looked towards his other high profile client. “Miles?”

Said client arched his brows and quickly swallowed the mouthful of beer he'd been in the middle of taking. “Why are you dragging me into this?”

“She's your daughter. And it's your show! The idea is trending on social media amongst the fans. They love her. And she's perfect for the part.”

“I'm not interested in acting!”

“I'm not asking you to dedicate your life to it. I'm just asking that you sit for a reading for this one part.”

Charlie inhaled and sighed before looking at her father. “Your view?”

Miles gave a one shoulder shrug. “It's your call. I'd kind of like working with you on the set. Nora's brought the idea up more than once, too.”

She refrained from labeling him a 'traitor' and looked back at Ed. “What part?”

“Desandra.”

“ _Desandra?_ That's not a one or two episode walk on. She's one of the main focal points for the fifth book! She goes back to Georgia with Curran and Kate and eventually becomes to wolf clan alpha!”

Miles frowned. “You read the books?”

“Well that already puts her ahead of you. You haven't even read the first one.”

“I don't need to read the books. I just need to read the scripts.”

Ed ignored that and turned his attention back to Charlie. “What else have you got to do during filming? You're already in the city. And since she's not a main character you won't have nearly the demands that Miles and Nora face.”

“You're talking like I already have the part.”

“I'm hopeful. Please, Charlotte, just go to the reading. They need to cast the part and the producers really want to see how you'd fit.”

“You are so going to owe me for this.”

~***~

“So you got the part.”

“I don't think they were even looking very hard at anyone else.” Charlie lifted her leg up and rested her ankle on Bass' shoulder, using him to stretch out the hamstring. “I'm pretty sure they had their minds made up.”

He didn't seem to mind being turned into a piece of exercise equipment. He brought one hand up to steady her foot and ankle while she counted to herself. “So does this mean you'll be getting up at four in the morning for casting calls?”

“Don't remind me. I'm hoping they kill off my character in the next book, though I don't see that happening.”

“Why not?”

“She's too popular.”

She switched legs and Bass now held on to the other ankle. “Tell me about her.”

“She's a werewolf from the Carpathians, though she learned English from an American and doesn't have an accent. Her father was a bastard who sold her off in marriage to one guy, then changed his mind maybe six months later and canceled her marriage. Then he sold her off to someone else and later changed his mind again. When she's introduced in the book, she was upset when she learned that her second marriage was being canceled and slept with her ex-husband after having had sex with her current husband a few hours earlier. She's pregnant with twins and the babies have two different fathers. Miles and Nora are brought in to body guard her until delivery.”

Bass had to blink at that. He let her ankle go as she transitioned to deep squats. “That's complicated. And messy. Why does she need body guards?”

“Her asshole father had promised that Herr firstborn child would inherit a mountain pass that is very lucrative in trade. He also said he'd rather kill her than lose the pass.”

“What happens?”

“She finds out that her father cut a deal with another werewolf to get rid of Nora's character and take her place as the female alpha in exchange for one of Curran's kids. It pisses her off and she rips out his heart for it. The heroes take her and her babies back to the US with them and she eventually takes over as the head of the wolf clan.”

He grinned. “So you're playing a slutty bad ass.”

“She's not a slut. Not really. She talks a good game and she flirts with anything, but she doesn't really make a move on anyone. She survived as long as she did by playing stupid. Her father has no idea that his daughter is exactly the kind of successor he was wanting all along, aside from the fact that she's a girl. Once she comes stateside, however, she doesn't have to play dumb any longer. She can be as crafty and bad ass as she wants, because the Atlanta pack actually appreciates females with a good head on their shoulders.”

A knock sounded against the door frame. Both of them looked over to see the stage manager. “Charlie? Fifteen minutes.”

“Got it.” Charlie finished off the last of her hot tea with lemon as someone else slipped inside. “Bro-Cuz!”

Danny grinned broadly at his elder sister before snatching her up and spinning her around. “Sorry I'm late.” He gave her a loud smacking kiss on one cheek before setting her back down. “My flight was delayed. Hey, Bass.”

The men exchanged hand shakes and smiles. “Danny. How long do we get to keep you?”

“I'm on my own until June. I need to hammer out credits for one English course and a government class, so I grabbed the summer semester for them. That way I can concentrate on my major when the main school year starts.”

“You're already declaring? Isn't this your first year?”

“Yeah, but I've always been set on engineering. I've CLEP'd out of most of my basic classes and just need those two credits so I can focus.”

“My bro-cuz, the overachiever.”

“Hey, someone's gotta make up for my sis-cuz, the slacker.”

Charlie gave him a Gibbs slap before double checking the position her wireless receiver on her belt. Another stage hand came into the room carrying a large vase overflowing with roses. “These came for you, Charlie.”

Danny whistled. “Nice one, Old Man. You do know she prefers carnations, right?”

“That's how you know it wasn't me.” Bass frowned. “Wouldn't be Miles or Ed, either.” 

Charlie found the card hidden in amongst the unopened buds. Taking it out of the little white envelope, she read it and rolled her eyes. “Jason.” The card got dropped into the nearby waste basket. “Looks like he still can't take a hint. Danny, be a dear and give these to Tracy if she comes by. They're her favorite.” She caught Bass' expression in her makeup mirror. “What's wrong?”

“I don't like it.”

“It's just flowers, Bass. I doubt Neville even really ordered them. He probably had his new assistant do it, or else it was Andover Talent.” She double checked her hair and make up before turning around to reach up onto her tip toes and kiss her boyfriend. “He's got nothing on you.”

Bass watched her leave the room as the stage manager rounded up the band and escorted them to the font. He and Danny would be watching from back stage, though he had a phone call to make first.

~***~

“This is so awesome, but I don't know how you have the energy to be here. You've been running non-stop.”

“Caffeine. Lots and lots and lots of caffeine.”

“And Uncle Miles?”

“Jack Daniels.”

Danny gave a snort of laughter as he continued to watch the crowds below. It was his last month with his sister and company and they were at Comic Con. He was having the time of his life. “Do you know what would really be awesome to do here?”

“Pass out free soap?”

“Well, that, and a human chess board.”

Charlie tilted her head in confusion. “Why chess?”

“Think about it!” He waved a hand at the multitude of people below, many in costume. “You could have teams with one guy being the player and all his friends being the pieces. You could have Klingons against the Federation. Star Wars against Star Trek. Star Trek against Stargate.” Something else caught his eye. “Disney princesses against My Little Pony.””

“My Little...?” Danny pointed down below and Charlie followed his finger. “Oh, now that's just wrong.”

“Creative, though.”

“Still wrong.” She was getting into the idea, though. “Oh! G.I. Joe against the Jedi.”

“Good one! Storm Shadow vs. Obi Wan Kenobi. That'd be fun.”

Charlie grinned and drained the last of the mocha her brother had gotten for her just as the door to Sandy's room opened and her usually prim and proper assistant came out looking anything but prim and proper. The taller girl stopped to return the stare in a pair of buckled platform boots over fishnets, a brief leather skirt and harness over an olive drab tank top and magenta cyber locks. “What?”

Charlie shook her head. “Nothing. You ready?”

“I'm not the one on the panel. Let us be on our way.”

As Ed had predicted, her joining the cast of Post Shift had caused a lot of buzz among the fans. Teh trolls (Danny had been trying to teach her about internet things) made snide comments about nepotism and the like. Most of the feedback, however, was positive. 

And, of course, she had to take part in the panel at Comic Con. It was scheduled for the second day. 

The first day included her trying to shove Danny into the Tardis just to be a brat.

And stalking Seth Green.

The room they were scheduled to appear in was filled to capacity and as they were brought out onto the stage the roar of the crowd was near deafening. They couldn't see very far into the crowd thanks to the overhead lights and the overall energy was almost intimidating.

Miles was seated between her and Nora. Charlie checked the paper name plate in front of her to make sure she was in the right chair, then started reading the bullet points on the back. Her dad leaned over to point out the one that asked them to remember there were underage attendees when it came to language.

“Try not to sprain your tongue.”

“Me? I learned all my curse words from you. Maybe I should find you a tongue sling.” She bopped him on the head with her name plate before setting it back down. They were introduced as they came out and had to wait until the roar died down before they could start.

“Thank you all for joining us today.” The young man leading the panel smiled down the row at all of them. “Before we start taking questions from the audience, I'd like to throw out the first one. Miles. How does it feel to get to work with your daughter on the show?”

“Depends on how mischievous she's feeling. Some days are awesome, and other days, like when she replaced my coffee with decaf and locked me out of my own trailer, I wish I could still ground her.”

“Hey!” The crowd laughed ask she gave her dad a put upon expression. “You started all that. Who thought it was a great idea to start off my first day on the set by hitting me in the face with a pie the moment I walked on?”

He shrugged in response. “It's tradition. Nora did it to me. Blame her.”

“Keep me out of this. I want to stay on her good side. I need her to make me a dress for Cannes.”

“Yeah, that's the other problem. These two team up together against me.” Miles hooked his thumbs at the two lovely ladies on either side of him. “I'm outnumbered!”

Nora mimed a tear running down her cheek which got another round of laughs. 

The emcee chuckled and leaned back over his mic. “So, in addition to Charlie joining the cast as Desandra, Connor has stayed on to continue his role as Derek Gaunt and I believe Mark Pellegrino will be returning in his role as Hugh d'Ambray, which is a much bigger part this season. With that, we'll open the floor for questions.”

**Author's Note:**

> _comments are my drug of choice...even though I'm not sure this story deserves them...I'm still undecided._


End file.
